On the southern slope of the main tableland which divides the waters of the Nueces and Rio Grande rivers in Texas, lies the old Spanish land grant of “Agua Dulce,” and the rancho by that name. Twice within the space of fifteen years was an appeal to the sword taken over the ownership of the […]

In the early part of September, ’91, the eastern overland express on the Denver and Rio Grande was held up and robbed at Texas Creek. The place is little more than a watering-station on that line, but it was an inviting place for hold-ups. Surrounded by the fastnesses of the front range of the Rockies, […]

There was a painting at the World’s Fair at Chicago named “The Reply,” in which the lines of two contending armies were distinctly outlined. One of these armies had demanded the surrender of the other. The reply was being written by a little fellow, surrounded by grim veterans of war. He was not even a […]

Along in the 80’s there occurred a question of possession in regard to a brand of horses, numbering nearly two hundred head. Courts had figured in former matters, but at this time they were not appealed to, owing to the circumstances. This incident occurred on leased Indian lands unprovided with civil courts,–in a judicial sense, […]

He was born in a chaparral thicket, south of the Nueces River in Texas. It was a warm night in April, with a waning moon hanging like a hunter’s horn high overhead, when the subject of this sketch drew his first breath. Ushered into a strange world in the fulfillment of natural laws, he lay […]

The ease and apparent willingness with which some men revert to an aimless life can best be accounted for by the savage or barbarian instincts of our natures. The West has produced many types of the vagabond,–it might be excusable to say, won them from every condition of society. From the cultured East, with all […]

Early in the summer of ’78 we were rocking along with a herd of Laurel Leaf cattle, going up the old Chisholm trail in the Indian Territory. The cattle were in charge of Ike Inks as foreman, and had been sold for delivery somewhere in the Strip. There were thirty-one hundred head, straight “twos,” and […]

No State in the Union was ever called upon to meet and deal with the criminal element as was Texas. She was border territory upon her admission to the sisterhood of States. An area equal to four ordinary States, and a climate that permitted of outdoor life the year round, made it a desirable rendezvous […]

“There’s our ford,” said Juan,–our half-blood trailer,–pointing to the slightest sag in a low range of hills distant twenty miles. We were Texas Rangers. It was nearly noon of a spring day, and we had halted on sighting our destination,–Comanche Ford on the Concho River. Less than three days before, we had been lounging around […]

It was an early spring. The round-up was set for the 10th of June. The grass was well forward, while the cattle had changed their shaggy winter coats to glossy suits of summer silk. The brands were as readable as an alphabet. It was one day yet before the round-up of the Cherokee Strip. This […]

An hour before daybreak one Christmas morning in the Cherokee Strip, six hundred horses were under saddle awaiting the dawn. It was a clear, frosty morning that bespoke an equally clear day for the wolf rodeo. Every cow-camp within striking distance of the Walnut Grove, on the Salt Fork of the Cimarron, was a scene […]