MY FIRST EFFORT AT SEEING LIFE—A TRIP TO TEXAS. I have not the vanity to suppose the details of my career in life, other than as it has been connected with the public service, would be of the slightest interest to the reader; and, therefore, I shall not dwell upon them. But I can not but believe that my adventures in that most dangerous and romantic of all branches of the service—while acting the part of a scout—during the late long and bloody war against the most gigantic rebellion known to history, will be read with interest, not only by the patriotic people of the loyal states, for whom my life was risked, but by thousands in the South—violent rebels—who will, in these pages first recognize me, in my true character, as a soldier of the Union; though oft I have partaken of their hospitalities, and been their familiar companion; and many a rebel officer will, in the following narrative, for the first time learn that they have communicated much valuable information to one who was in the service of the nation against which they had arrayed the whole power, and chivalry of half a score of powerful and flourishing states, extending from the Gulf of Mexico to the thirty-seventh parallel of north latitude. My career as a scout was commenced under Gen. O. M. Mitchell, who, in 1862, commanded the Third Division of the But why engage in the dangerous vocation, and risk life, amid enemies who, had they known my character, would gladly have suspended me to the nearest limb? Say, like Shylock, it was my nature, and the reader has it all. I had been well trained in such service, having left my home in Ohio, long since, and migrated to Texas, where I was schooled as a "Ranger" and hunter—the latter character being a necessary accompaniment of the former, as the ranger draws little or no subsistence from the government, but obeys the injunction of Scripture, and takes neither brass nor postal currency in his purse, nor hard tack in his haversack, relying almost entirely on his trusty rifle, for subsistence, from the first to the last of his term of enlistment. But why should an Ohioan, and a printer, be induced to migrate to Texas, where civilization has but begun, and where men still fancy that there is something diabolical in the process of producing books and newspapers? In Texas—a land of contrarities, where all is abundance, by the mere act of nature, or sterility beyond the power of art to fertilize; where one only looks up stream for water; where rivers are narrow at their mouths, and wide at their fountains; where the ground is never dusty, though parched with drouth; where grass grows green in winter; where neither the horse nor the I had been working at my trade in Jefferson City, Missouri, during the winter of 1858-9, and in the spring resolved to go to Kansas, which was yet disturbed by factions, and consequently the very place for one fond of adventure; and, as my nature prompted me to ramble, I saw no other section half so inviting; and accordingly, having armed myself, "as the law directs," I started for the territory on foot. I had traveled but half a day, however, when I stopped for dinner at a wayside inn, kept by a plethoric old man, the possessor of a young wife and half a dozen worthless darkies. While at dinner, some one rode up to the gate and inquired of the landlord if there was a young man there, who was traveling on foot. "That's my name," I said, and went to the door, to ascertain: what was wanted. "Say, young man," said the party, "don't you want to go to Texas?" "Don't care if I do," said I. "Well," he replied, "my name is Colonel Johnston; I live twelve miles south of Dallas; I am taking down a drove of horses, and want help; I will furnish you with a horse, saddle, and bridle, and pay your way." In an instant, all desire to visit Kansas, and participate in the partisan turmoils, which were continually agitating the territory, "vanished into thin air," and in their stead arose visions of wild horse chases, buffalo hunts, Indian fights, and a thousand other "manly sports," which I knew to be the chief sources of amusement and excitement, in that wild, celebrated region. "But where were you going?" queried the Colonel. "To Kansas," I replied. "What were you going there for?" he continued. "For fun," was my sententious, but truthful answer. "Well," he responded, "if you want fun, just go to Texas; that is the place to find it; plenty of all sorts of game, fine horses, and clever people. It's just the spot for a young man. If ever you go there, you will like the country so well, that you will never leave it." "Hold on, then, till I get my dinner, and I'll go," was the only reply I stopped to make, till I had satisfied my appetite. Dinner over, I mounted the animal designated, and we proceeded to gather up the horses, which had scattered about to graze, while the Colonel was waiting on me. There were in the drove an unusually fine lot of northern mares, which Johnston stated would be very valuable in Texas, besides a number of magnificent geldings. As soon as we were fairly on our way, my employer took care to remind me that his name was Colonel Johnston, and inquired mine. He then went on to enlighten me, by saying, that, in Texas, every man of any note had some title; was either dubbed General, Colonel, Major, Captain, Judge, or Esquire; that his friends had given him the title of Colonel, though he had never held any military position, the term being merely complimentary. He further informed me, that at one time in his life, he had been a mate on board of a river steamer, and then began to relate various feats of personal prowess, which at once inspired me with a high regard for both his physical and intellectual endowments. He was really a fine looking, robust man, about thirty-five years of age, of a very generous, and manly disposition; and but for a superfluity of vanity and self-importance, was an exceedingly agreeable companion. He had been in Illinois, settling up his wife's estate, and had taken her share of the property in horses; and, by the way, one of the first things he told me was, that he had married a widow. We traveled fast; I thought very fast; and as day after day came and went, and we were in the saddle early and late, I began Our route lay through South Missouri, along a high barren ridge, for eighty miles. If I remember rightly, we passed no town till we came to Linn creek, where we crossed the Osage river, which, I believe, is the head of navigation. It is a small town but is a very business like little place. As we crossed the river a little boat steamed away from the landing, loaded, as I afterward learned, with nineteen tons of deer hides, besides other peltries and furs. The town is hemmed in by the Osage range, which although very high and abrupt, should rather be We passed through Springfield, which at that time was a beautiful and flourishing little city. A school dismissed while we were riding through the streets, and from the walls of the large seminary issued such a swarm of pretty girls, as would make any young man's head swim with delight as he viewed them. I have always had a curiosity to go back there. From Springfield our route was through a good country for some distance, until we reached Barry county, in which the land is too poor and rocky to talk about. While traveling through it, we managed to tear off nearly every shoe from the horses' feet, and this caused some delay, in getting them re-set. Getting on our way again, we passed through Cassville. The country was still so rocky that the geese couldn't walk about to graze; at least so I concluded, from the fact that I saw one sitting on a hill-side, some distance from a house, and a woman carrying it food. The goose made no effort to help itself, and the woman had to rough it over the rocks the entire distance. Crossing the Arkansas line, we reached Bentonville, a very thriving village in the Ozark mountains; thence we went to Fayetteville, a town of considerable importance, to the north, but in sight of the Boston mountain, a spur of the Ozark range. As we passed through, we met the overland mail stage, coming at full speed, or at least as fast as mule flesh could move it. When stages were first put on this line, considerable excitement Boston mountain was the next difficulty we had to surmount. The road over it is fifteen miles long, and the ascent was exceedingly steep; but there are several steppes, or benches, on the sides, and these afford good resting places for travelers. Every acre on these steppes is good tillable land, and would be admirably adapted to vine growing; while upon the very summit is one of the finest farms in Arkansas. We stopped here for the night and were generously entertained, as indeed we always On the following morning we started down the mountain. The sky wore a threatening appearance; great banks of clouds seemed to rise from the horizon, and, as it were, to be sucked or drawn from every direction toward the mountain by some powerful current or attraction, until, finally, as we reached the first bench from the top, they met with such violence that the concussion seemed to jar the mountain itself, as if it had been shaken by an earthquake. Peal upon peal of thunder rolled through the clouds, accompanied by terrific flashes of glittering lightning, that seemed to leap from heaven to earth, and from earth again through boundless space. To add to the terrific noise of the thunder, it bellowed through the mountain gorges, reverberating from cliff to cliff, like volleys of musketry, and was accompanied by the sound of creaking boughs, falling trees, and of rocks loosed by the winds, tumbling from the summit of the mountain to the abysses below. The falling rain soon accumulated into torrents, and these added to the din, as they fell over precipices, until one could scarcely do other than conclude that harmony had been broken up in the heavens and that the elements were engaging in one long, desperate, and terrific strife. We did not stop—we could not; the storm came sweeping down the mountain with a fury that was irresistible; and nearly carried our animals over the cliffs. The clouds themselves seemed to be falling, for in addition to the torrents of rain which drenched us, we were closely enveloped in a thick mist which shut out from our view all surrounding objects. The horses entirely bewildered, became frantic, and dashed off in all directions, but chiefly up the sides of the gorge, down which our route lay. Some were speedily lost to view, while others almost precipitated themselves down the mountain side, regardless of danger. As for ourselves, we were powerless, and could only await the dispersion of the clouds that we might see what to do; and fortunately we were not compelled to wait long, as the storm was brief; it however made up in fury what it lacked in duration. One by one we discovered our horses on the mountain side, trembling at the giddy hight to which, in their terror, and while enveloped in fog, they had clambered. To get them down was a work of no little difficulty and danger, but it was accomplished, however, without accident, and we sped away for Lee's creek, a mountain stream which was known to rise with great rapidity, and when up was not fordable. The prospect of being water bound in the mountains for two or three days without provisions, the reader will admit, was not very inviting; and so we concluded, and we put on our best speed and gained the ford just in time; for five minutes later and it was a roaring torrent. Not far from the foot of Boston mountain we passed through a little village of sixty or eighty houses, the inhabitants of which appeared to be settling some question of vital importance to the community, as they were engaged in a free fight after the most approved style—every body being in; and oaths, rocks, clubs, and pistol-shots were the order of the day. Not receiving any invitation to participate, and being firm adherents of the theory that every community should be allowed to settle its domestic affairs in its own way, subject only to the Constitution of the United States—even though that way was a little rough—we passed along on our route, through a shower of ill-aimed missiles; and for once denied ourselves the luxury of engaging in a free fight. We crossed the Arkansas river at Van Buren, and stopped with very good will at a plantation owned by a handsome widow, whose husband had been an officer in the regular service. Our entertainment was superb, and at nine o'clock we retired, and, being wearied, were soon enjoying a profound sleep. Toward midnight we were aroused by a loud barking in the yard from half a score or so of dogs. On going to the door I looked out and discovered a man in the act of turning our horses out of the lot. Seizing my rifle, I aroused Johnston, and started for the scene of operations. Luckily the animals were tired, and moved slowly, so that I was on the thief in a minute; and he, seeing that At Fort Smith we entered the Indian Nation—the first we met being Choctaws. They had long been on friendly terms with the whites, and traveling through their country was as safe as, and perhaps safer than, in Arkansas. But few of the Indians build their houses on public roads, the exceptions generally being half-breeds. The full Indian always seeks some secluded spot on which to build. There were some handsomely improved farms through the country, but they were mostly owned by white men who had married Indian wives. We camped out through the Nation, and procured our food, ready cooked, from the people. The squaws make excellent bread, and they supplied us bountifully with stewed venison. One may go to the Indian's house when he will, and he will find the kettle on and boiling, filled with the choicest meat. I invariably found the natives kind and obliging, and very reasonable in their charges. I often left Johnston to wait in the woods for his rations, while I sat down with the Indians, and enjoyed a warm meal. They had milk, eggs, and butter in abundance. All eat soup, succotash, and other "spoon victuals," out of the same dish, and with the same spoon; not from a scarcity of either, but from their laws of etiquette. He is regarded as exceedingly rude who refuses to eat soup from the same bowl with them, though each is supplied with separate plates, knives, and forks for the eating of meat, eggs, fruit, etc. Although I did not discover any malicious disposition among the natives, I was informed that human life was held very cheap by them; although they seldom molest white men traveling through their country, they frequently engage in deadly strife among themselves. I do not think much of their progress in civilization as a general thing. Here and there a farm and residence evinced industry and taste; but on the next, perhaps, one Their police regulations were well adapted to preserve order. In every township of six miles square there was a mounted force of ten men, one relief of whom was almost constantly in the saddle, traveling the country in all directions; and their mode of transmitting intelligence from one beat to another was only excelled by the telegraph. The country is beautifully diversified with mountains, bold, rugged, and often isolated, rising from the surface of a level valley. They are covered with pine and cedar and other evergreens. The valleys are well adapted to grazing, and hence the principal wealth of the country is in horses, cattle, and hogs. We were often stopped at the bridges to pay toll. As the streams throughout the entire region usually have quicksand bottoms, it is a great convenience to travelers to have these bridges, although it is rather disagreeable to encounter a squaw every few miles vigorously demanding toll. On Boggy River we were out in the rain for some time, and, being wet without, we were naturally dry within; and as the water in the Indian Nation does not possess sufficient consistency to quench thirst on such occasions, we resolved to procure some whisky. But how? That was the question. The law was very strict in prohibiting its importation or manufacture, and it was not easy to evade it. However, we must procure some; and, seeing a house at a short distance from the road, we stopped the horses to graze while I set out on the questionable mission of purchasing whisky, without knowing what to call it in Choctaw. At the house I found no one at home except a squaw so old that her teeth were worn off even with her gums, and a young girl—very pretty, but very shy. I made known the object of my visit by telling her, in the very best English I could command, that I desired to purchase some whisky; but she failed to comprehend my meaning. I thought for a moment, and then concluded that as they had to smuggle it, perhaps they would be That night we encamped on Boggy River, which, I believe, divides the lands of the Choctaws and Chickasaws. It is a very considerable stream, with broad, rich valleys, finely timbered. At Boggy Depot we saw a great many Choctaws and Chickasaws assembled to hold a grand council, and, like all political gatherings, it was a mixed crowd. Some were gay, some were quiet, some were noisy, and, despite of stringent prohibition, some were drunk, and consequently boisterous. This depot is a great resort for all classes of traders. From Boggy we traveled through a well-timbered country, occupied by the Chickasaws. It is not so mountainous as the Choctaw country, and I do not consider the people nearly so far advanced in civilization as the Choctaws, but far more docile and kind in their manners. We crossed the Red river at Colbert's ferry, when the Colonel gave a shout of delight as he once more landed in Texas. My first impressions of the country were not pleasing. For twelve miles our way lay through a country heavily timbered and thickly interlaced with vines. A sandy soil, with, once in a while, a badly-managed farm and shabby log house, did not agree with my preconceived notions of the State; but after having traveled twelve miles, the landscape began to change. We reached high prairies, covered with luxuriant grass, and dotted with highly-cultivated plantations and beautiful groves. Immense herds of cattle were seen in every direction, and although this is not the chief grazing part of the State, there were many herds of horses, and flocks of sheep interspersed among the cattle. The soil is black and waxy, and no matter how much the roads are traveled they are never dusty, but become beaten down, like a cake of beeswax; and this species of soil extends as far south as Austin. We passed through Sherman, a place of great commercial importance in Northern Texas, which at that time bid fair to be a large city; and the next place we reached was Dallas, celebrated for its mills which produce the best flour in Texas. The staple of the surrounding country is wheat, the soil being peculiarly We reached Mr. Johnston's house, twelve miles south of Dallas, and were welcomed by his wife and daughter. They went out on the prairie to examine the stock; and as part of the horses had been represented as belonging to the estate of his wife's first husband, I naturally expected that the lady would recognize some of them, and call them by name, or otherwise particularly designate them; but to my astonishment she seemed never to have seen any of them before. I now remembered our haste, and the Colonel's unaccountable excitement at times; and I could not escape the conviction that I had helped to run off a drove of stolen horses. As my contract was now up, the Colonel pressed me to continue with him; and his solicitations were cordially seconded by his wife and daughter; but as soon as I had secured a settlement with him, and received my money, I pushed on to Austin, where I expected to find employment as a printer. |