USA > New Mexico > Lincoln County > History of the Chisum war ; or, Life of Ike Fridge : stirring events of cowboy life on the frontier > Part 2
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He was head-strong and selected an easy saddler for the long ride instead of a swift run- ner, which fact probably caused his death. After a night ride we stopped outside of the town about three in the morning and rested our horses until day break. As the morning light came, we rode into Port de Luna, not knowing what dangers were ahead and really not caring much, since we were accustomed to meet all emergencies with our six guns smoking, and the Chisum outfit had a reputation of winning most of such arguments.
Stopping our mounts in front of the first chili joint we came to we had breakfast, with plenty of the black coffee the restaurant men knew cowboys liked. The stores were beginning to open when we had eaten, so we rode over to buy our stuff before too many people were astir
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-intending to make peaceful departure if pos- sible.
I stood guard with the horses ready while Rankins bought tobacco and cartridges the boys had sent for and attended to the business McDan- iel had sent us on. About the time the things that were bought from the big Mex behind the counter were safely in the pack sacks, I saw three Mexicans coming across the street. I stepped in the store and told Rankins to hurry, that some officers were coming. As on the previous even- ing, he said:
"Oh, you are only scared."
They came in the store and asked us where we were going. Rankins replied in Spanish that we were going to a ranch. One of the Mexicans then said:
"You are Chisum's cowboys."
They went for their guns but we beat them to the draw and took their guns away from them. Knowing that all the Mex officers were in league with the rustlers and were trying to help them by jailing the Chisum cowboys, we didn't feel that we were resisting real constitued auhority in refusing to let them arrest us. After disarming them, we marched them and the store keeper to our horses, and adjusted our packs.
Mounting, we bade them "goodbye" and struck the trail out of town. Once out of town Rankins pulled down to a walk, and I urged him to ride up, feeling that they might get a bunch and follow us.
He said: "We will stand them off."
Sooner than I even suspected we discovered
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that we were closely pursued and I got Rankins in the notion of riding to escape, as we were greatly outnumbered. The outlaw population kept their horses ready for instant action and they had joined with their friends, the "officers," and were on our trail bent on getting our blood in revenge for those of their number we had killed on the range in the fights there.
Charlie's horse couldn't run fast and we were loaded with the results of our purchases. Also, our horses had been ridden practically all night, so the chase didn't last long until they were gain- ing on us. When the intervening distance had been cut to about two hundred yards they began shooting. Charlie Rankins was shot in the back. He fell over on his horse's neck, saying:
"They sure did get me."
He then told me to get away if I could, and seeing that he was actually "got" and that by re- maining with him we would both be killed, I put spurs to my good mount and soon got ahead of them. They had checked up a bit on reaching Charlie, then came on after me. About four miles away there was a long canyon and I made for it. When I struck the head of the canyon I found it to be very rough with lots of rock and brush. Just as I got to the bottom my horse stumbled and fell, pinning my left leg. He jumped up, but my leg was hurt so badly that I thought it was brok- en. I hobbled to where my horse was, but by that time my leg was hurting so badly that I couldn't get on the horse. I led him back in the brush and tied him, and got behind a large rock, thinking they would pass me. It was not long
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until they came.
As they passed on I recognized a white man in the crowd by the name of Perison. He was stealing cattle from Chisum. There was a Mexi- can behind Perison, and when the Mex got to where my horse fell, he got a sack of tobacco and some cartridges I had dropped. He then looked down at my horse's tracks, trying to see which direction I had gone.
He then picked up my trail and started to- ward me, and I knew he would see my horse if he came in that direction. I thought of trying to disarm him, but another idea came into my mind. Knowing I was crippled and could not put up much of a fight, I just decided I had better take the safest way. Then, too, he or some of his gang had killed my partner, Charlie Rankins, and I felt that there would be no harm in getting him in re- turn. I knew that the other Mexicans would hear the shooting and that a quick getaway would be necessary to avoid capture or worse. Fast action was necessary as he was by that time only a few feet from me, coming with his gun in hand trailing my horse.
As I raised my gun he looked up and said, "hold up" in Spanish, but I shot him. When he hit the ground I picked up my sack of tobacco and cartridges. He had a new forty-five six shooter and belt of cartridges. I rolled him over and got them. The time that had elapsed had helped my leg and the excitement had helped me to forget the pain, so I made it to my horse and mounted. Riding up out of the canyon I looked back to see them coming toward me, but my good
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horse struck a lope for the Pecos river, which we reached after some fast riding and crossed safely to the east side. I was then about ten miles above the ranch and turned my horse down toward it. I hadn't gone far, though, until I saw a party of horsemen coming up the river. I thought of hid- ing as my horse was too far spent to stand ano- ther chase after the long run he had just made to the river, but as the party came closer I rec- ognized a horse in the bunch and the riders prov- ed to be four of our own men.
On telling them what had happened I found that they seemed to be more anxious about the tobacco and cartridges than they were about the dead Mex. After smokes were secured and they began to talk it developed that they had just had a fight with Billie the Kid and some of his outfit, killing two of his men.
6-0
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THE BATTLE ON THE MASO
We all went on to the ranch and next day started out to brand some calves just as though no fighting had taken place. Working until night we made camp at an adobe house on the Maso creek. The house was about twenty feet long and fourteen feet wide. One door and a fire place were the only openings. We cooked in the fire- place and used a box for a table. Eight of us were in the house, some of the boys were cooking sup- per and the rest were on the bunks.
The moon was shining brightly and we had no thought of trouble until a noise was heard on the outside.
A man called "Hello."
Jim McDaniel, our faithful foreman, was a tall, light complexioned man, always sober, and ready to protect his men in every way possible. He was a good manager and boss and like the rest of us, was not married, as there were no women in the country at that time except Mexican senoritas and senoras. In fact, at one time I didn't see a white woman for four years. Mc- Daniel had lots of nerve, and we were all willing to do as he said in any emergency, for he was a peaceful man and never rushed into trouble, de- siring to avoid it if possible. When he heard the call "hello" he went to the door.
Perison, the cattle rustler, was the leader of the party outside and in answer to McDaniel's query, he said :
"We are officers of the law and we demand
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your surrender."
McDaniel knew they were fake officers, just plain rustlers in fact, and if we surrendered we would likely be shot down by the Mex element like dogs, so he countered:
"I shall talk to the men."
With one accord we all said, "No, we will never surrender."
After having let us make our own decision, McDaniel then took charge of the affair and di- rected the fight in his usual able manner. He said, "We will all rush to the door as if we were going to surrender and then open fire on them. Be sure to get Perison first." So in answer to their demand for surrender, we sent them a full charge of lead.
We then rushed back into the corner to be out of line of their return fire as we were out- numbered, and because of the smoke from the guns, we couldn't tell just what effect our volley had had. The outlaws, most of whom were Mexi- cans, backed off about thirty feet to a lot of rocks, but kept up a continual fire at the door. Curtis, a young fellow about twenty-two, and an excellent shot, brave and daring as could be, but reckless beyond any degree of caution, rushed to the door and opened fire on the attackers. The Mexicans killed him instantly.
After a few minutes of intermittent firing, McDaniel said: "We will quit shooting for awhile and the rustlers will think we are all killed." They shot the door to pieces but it was not long until they quit shooting. We then heard one of them
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say :
"They are all dead."
McDaniel whispered: "Let them come to the door and we will make another run on them."
As they came near the house we started to shooting at them. A Mexican will almost always run when the fight is hot and at close quarters, and as soon as we began our surprise volley they took flight, shooting as they ran, but the white men put up a strong fight. As the Mexicans whirled to run, McDaniel gave the order to charge and crowd them. We killed Perison and six oth- ers, the remainder making their get-away. All of our boys were wounded in the close fighting with the white men who had not run with the Mexi- cans except Charlie Nebow and me, and Nebow said:
"Kid, just you and I to finish this."
We went back and layed Curtis out on a bunk and cared for the wounded ones. There was so much shooting and fighting on the range that every real cowboy knew how to give first aid to a wounded man, and, if necessary, he could do a pretty fair job of treating him.
After the boys and McDaniel had been patch- ed up they were helped on their horses and a trip started to a camp about six miles from there, where we knew about twenty men were stationed. It was a gruesome journey-two well men caring- for five wounded ones and expecting an attack from the ones who had gotten away from the adobe house alive.
A Frenchman who had been a doctor, lived
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not very far from the camp we went to, so three men of the twenty were sent for the doctor and his good wife. Others were sent as messengers to the ranch headquarters with news of the fight, which had been about the worst since hostilities had begun, having lasted for quite awhile and had resulted in the death of seven of the rustlers and one of our boys, with five more of them shot, more or less seriously.
Several of us went out the next morning and hauled the dead rustlers and threw them into a canyon. We had no tools for grave digging and you don't care to scratch a grave in the hard ground for a bunch of guys who had been trying to put you out of the running only the night be- fore. We got Curtis' body and brought it over to the camp where it was buried. The French doc- tor and his wife stayed with the boys about a week and pronounced them all out of danger, then returned to their home.
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MANY CATTLE STOLEN
During the Chisum trouble in 1872 the rust- lers were very bad. One day while the main out- fit was out branding calves, a man came to head- quarters and reported that he had found a trail of about six hundred head of cattle going west to the mountains. He had examined the trail and found the tracks of eight horses and one burro. The boss and I and one other man were at the ranch. We went to the cow wagon on the range and got twelve men, ate lunch and got horses, and started after the cattle.
We struck the trail that afternoon and fol- lowed it until night. As the moon was shining and six hundred cattle leave a plain trail, it was decided to keep going, and the chase was kept up until the moon went down about two in the morn- ing. Our horses were tired and we stopped and hobbled them so they could graze about a bit and rest. I was put on as first guard to watch the horses and keep a lookout for trouble. We hadn't been stopped more than an hour until I heard cattle. I listened awhile, then waked up the boss and told him I heard the cattle. He got up and listened. We could tell they were dry cattle want- ing water bad.
The boss waked the other boys and we sad- dled our horses and went on. About a mile from the herd of cattle the boss began to ride slow so we wouldn't make any noise. We got in about two hundred yards of the herd and stopped for a council. Some of the boys wanted to wait until daybreak and some wanted to go on then. Mc-
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Daniel turned to me and said:
"Kid, what do you think about it?"
I replied: "If I was doing this I would go up and turn loose all their horses." They had the horses staked with saddles on six. We could see only two men around the herd. So McDaniel said he thought that was a good idea. There was no doubt at all about it being a stolen herd as no legitimate rancher would have been driving in that direction and manner, so there was no use to hesi- tate about starting the fight.
The boss and Charlie Nebow and I got off. our horses and slipped up on foot. We saw a little fire where six men were asleep. Turning all their horses loose we headed them toward the herd and went back to where our mounts were. McDaniel said, "Now we will slip around between the horses and the camp. Six men will go to the herd, three on each side, and the others will make a run on the camp." The horses were drifted into the herd of cattle. Charlie Nebow and I and a puncher by the name of Blair went around the herd on one side.
When we got in about fifty yards of the cat- tle we saw a rustler coming around the herd to- ward us. It could be told that he was a Mex by the big hat he was wearing. He evidently thought we three were some of his own men as he came quietly on toward us for a time, but soon saw his mistake and turned back.
Nebow says to me: "Line him up." We be- gan to shoot at him. We ran him about a hun- dred yards when he either jumped off his horse
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or fell off, we didn't know which. I ran and caught his horse, on which was a brand new Cali- fornia saddle. As I was about bareback I took the saddle. The other boys, who were going to their camp began shooting into it when they heard us firing, but they never did know whether they killed anyone or not. We got the cattle and all the horses and started back. When daybreak came we let the cattle graze and they drifted eas- ily back toward their range and watering places, where we turned them loose again.
The saddle I had appropriated had blood all over it. Some of the boys laughingly remarked that the Mex's nose must have been bleeding.
This was about the last big raid the rustlers made that year as Uncle Sam soon sent a marshal into the country and later on troops came. There had been numerous raids and fights in which the other bunches of Chisum's punchers had taken part, but we have not tried to give them all here as the details would have had to come from others. I heard all about them at the time, but fifty years or more is a long, long; time, to try to tell accurately, from memory, the details of battles that were not impressed vividly on one's mind from actual contact.
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"BILLIE THE KID" IS KILLED
A United States marshal, Pat Garrett, was sent to help quiet the outlaws and stop cattle rustling. He soon decided that the best way to break the backbone of the gangs was to get the leader.
After several battles with "Billie the Kid's" gang and the death of some of his most prominent fighting men, Billie was finally trapped and cap- tured, but after being sentenced to hang he kill- ed two of his jailers and made his escape. Every- one knew then he would never be taken alive as his deeds were so bloody and the hanging sentence was over his head. He could expect nothing ex- cept to die if he should be captured, and his guns had carried him through so many tight places that if he should, be cornered no other thought would even enter his mind except to fight his way out or die trying.
It was he that Pat Garrett intended to get as the leader of the bunch of lawbreakers. So many were the deeds of daring and of cruelty that had been accredited to Billie that everyone fig- ed peace would reign if he were eliminated. Still in some sections he was admired for his bravery and daring exploits and he had the sympathy of the ranchers. These ranchers, of course, were the ones who had not suffered from the rustler raids, and who shielded the Kid for the protection of their herds as much as anything else.
An outlaw never gets so bad but that a girl cannot enter his life and win his affection. Billie, though a hardened criminal, was a flashy knight
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of the saddle, and went strong for showy garb of the Mexican caballero type. This gave him an idea that the ladies should all be attracted by him. Being a frequent visitor at the Maxwell ranch, he became deeply in love with a senorita there.
His love was not returned however, and it was through this girl that the U. S. marshall laid his plan to get the outlaw into his meshes. It was next to impossible to locate him out on the range, and harder still, to get in a position to kill or cap- ture him there. Garrett went to the Maxwell ranch and holed up out of sight of all comers so that no word of his presence would be conveyed to the Kid by his friends. After a period of pa- tient waiting he was rewarded by a signal from the girl that the outlaw was in her parlor. Billie had pulled off his boots and made a silent entry into the house.
The marshal and Maxwell were in an adjoin- ing room. Billie heard them talking and asked the girl who they were. She told him that it was only Maxwell and a friend of his. Soon after the girl had let them know by a pre-arranged signal who her visitor was, Maxwell got up from his chair and left the house. He purposely made quite a bit of noise as he was leaving to make the Kid believe he was the visitor and was quitting the place. The girl then told the outlaw that Max- well's friend had left. Billie, thinking it was Max- well who had remained in the room, started in to talk to him.
As he came through the door Pat Garrett had him covered. Just as soon as the Kid discovered
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the marshall he went for his guns. But Garrett had only to pull the trigger and the most danger- ous outlaw and desperado ever on the Western Texas and New Mexico ranges was no more. He fell to the floor dead as the man of the law had done a good job.
"Billie the Kid" had gone the route of so many criminals. He had fallen for a woman and given the officers the clew that led to his destruc- tion. The marshal asked the government for troops to aid in running down the rest of the bunch and when the U. S. soldiers interfered the outlaws were without a leader. Both Perison and the dreaded Kid had been killed. The remaining rustlers left that part of the country and the Chisum-Outlaw war was over for that year, but not for all time.
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IKE FRIDGE SHOT BY INDIANS
After the trouble with "Billie the Kid," and the trouble with Perison and the other rustlers was all over, we started with a bunch of extra saddle horses to Texas to get the last of the cattle that Col. Chisum had bought from Coggins a year or two before. When we got to Rock Creek, twelve miles west of where San Angelo now stands, we camped for the night.
Just in the middle of a peaceful "cow camp" evening-the moon about two hours high, four men on guard around the saddle remuda, two sit- ting by the fire parching coffee, and the rest of the men lying around on their blankets chatting after a hard day's ride-a more peaceful and quieter picture could not be imagined-as I have said, just in the middle of all the serenity the calm was broken by the dreaded Indian yell.
The cow waddies snapped into action, every man grabbing his gun and seeking what shelter the hastily made camp afforded. The yell of even a small bunch of Indians on a quiet night, leaves the impression that you are attacked by thousands of them and we never did know just how many were on us. Part of them ran our horses off, the others came toward our chuck wagon. During the thick of the fight I was standing by the wagon shooting over it, when a bullet hit the wagon tire. A piece of the leaden bullet split off and hit me in the head. I called to a man nearby: "I'm shot in the head."
He and another puncher or two looked and saw the blood, examined the wound and found the
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piece of bullet. They pulled it out. My bunkie, Charlie Nebow, said: "Hell, Ike Fridge, you are not hurt."
We fought them for an hour. They killed one man and wounded two. We never knew how many Indians we killed as they carried them all away with them, but some of us were behind the wagon and others used their stacked saddles for a barricade and our casualties were light compar- ed with that of the redskins, who were in the open and exposed to our well aimed fire.
The four men on horseback who had been holding the horse herd before the Indians took it away from them, rode to Fort Concho that night to get a doctor and a hearse and to secure some teams to pull our wagon to the fort. At daybreak the army ambulance and doctor came, along with a detail of ten soldiers. They took the dead cow- boy and one of the wounded ones to the Fort where the wounded man was cared for in the mili- tary hospital. I was not hurt badly enough to go to the hospital, and a little patching up by the army surgeon who came out to the camp put me in good shape again. We buried the dead man that day in Fort Concho.
Before we left the battle ground to go to Fort Concho we picked up over two hundred arrows. A number of the Indians had guns that the white man had supplied them with to use against him. It was a bullet from one of them that came so near to bouncing me into the "Happy Hunting Ground," to use the Indian way of describing eter- nity. The Indian would have been a far less for- midable enemy to us in the settlement of these
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United States if the love of money had not been so great in the white man. Guns and ammunition were traded for furs or other things the Indians had that could in turn be exchanged for money. The traders in some instances were bound to have known that the guns they were putting into the hands of the red man would later be turned back on them or others of the white race, but greed controlled their actions.
Hence,in addition to the two hundred arrows we found and those that we didn't pick up, many leaden bullets whistled into our camp during the hour that the fight lasted.
Four government mules had been brought out by the soldiers to pull our wagon in and when it reached the government post our boss, Jim Mc- Daniel, bought two yoke of oxen to pull it on to the ranch, a distance of about forty miles. When we got to the ranch Col. Chisum was there. After he was told of the trouble he laughed and said :
"I win a suit of clothes on that."
Chisum had bet Eugene Tague that the In- dians would get our horses before we got to the ranch.
The Indians were bad in the country that spring. They had killed many men and stolen a lot of horses. After losing the remuda we started from New Mexico with Chisum taking three men and myself to Austin where he purchased a bunch of horses. When we returned from Austin, Cog- gins delivered the remainder of the herds the Colonel had bought from him. They were then started on the long trail to Mexico where they
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were turned loose with those of the bunches that had preceded them, or at least on the same range. This gave Col. Chisum about all the cattle he could handle conveniently with the pests such as Indians, cattle rustlers and mean Mexicans to con- tend with, not to mention weather conditions.
It was late in the fall when we arrived at the New Mexico ranch. Of course, before the Coggin cattle could be turned on the range it was nec- essary to brand them all with the Colonel's brand. While this was being done there was some more gun play. We had a negro in the bunch who was helping brand the cattle. He and one of the white men, Carnahan I believe it was, had had some trouble and during the work of branding, the negro saw a chance to take advantage of the puncher.
The negro said, "I am ready for you now," and made a move to draw his gun. Jim McDaniel heard him and whirled around, drawing and fir- ing his gun as he turned, shooting the black be- tween the eyes before he could kill the cowboy.
We buried the negro by his partner on the bank of the Pecos river. His partner had been killed the previous Christmas day in a fight at the ranch, as detailed in a preceding chapter,
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