USA > New Mexico > Lincoln County > History of the Chisum war ; or, Life of Ike Fridge : stirring events of cowboy life on the frontier > Part 3
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IKE FRIDGE, COWBOY
THE LaPATCHES ON THE WAR PATH
That winter saw a lot of trouble. The La- Patche Indians were particularly bad. We give only one or two incidents that are especially in- teresting due to the peculiar manner in which the fighting took place.
Goodwin and Walker, two of the Colonel's cowboys, were camped in a kind of dug-out, used for a line camp. It was built in the head of a hol- low or draw and covered with poles and dirt. The door was made of box lids and rawhide strings. In that day rawhide strings were used in most in- stances where we now use wire nails. The chim- ney was cut in the bank and topped off with large rocks.
The boys reached the dug-out about an hour before sunset and began the preparation of the evening meal. While the men were busy cooking their supper about thirty redskins attacked them. Some ran up on top of the dug-out) where they would be safe from bullets from within. Others began shooting in the door. One of the boys closed the door which turned the arrows success- fully, and they did not rush the door for fear of being stopped with a white man's bullet.
The red men then resorted to the strategy which is their nature. When Goodwin or Walker would stick a gun out to shoot, the Indians on the roof would drop rocks on their gun barrels and knock them out of their hands or spoil their aim. The savages threw rocks down the chimney until they filled it up. They then began to dig holes in the roof. Goodwin and his partner decided they
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would make a break for liberty.
As most of the Indians were on the dug-out the boys opened the door and ran. Walker did not get far until an Indian shot him through the leg. He fell and Goodwin picked him up and put him under a cactus. Goodwin told his comrade that he would go to the ranch and get help. How- ever, he had not gone very far until he heard the Indians yelling and he knew they had found Wal- ker. As soon as Goodwin got to the ranch he got help and went back, but found only Walker's dead body.
One month later in a colorful fight Indians killed Goodwin and his brother.
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WAR RE-OPENS-COL. CHISUM DIES
With the coming of spring the Chisum War opened again. The remnants of the old rustler gang, together with a number of new recruits, drifted back into the territory, and the range again was the scene of fighting between the pun- chers and the cattle thieves.
Col. Chisum was in poor health, suffering from cancer of the mouth. He was so worried over his physical condition and financial troubles that they took him to Kansas City for treatment and a rest. When they got ready to start with him he called all his men to his bedside and said:
"Jim McDaniel, handle the ranch the best you know how and when I get to Fort Union I will consult the commanding officer and try to stop this war."
Then he called me over and said:
"Ike Fridge, if I get back alive I will make you my sole heir, for you have made me a faith- ful man."
At that time I was only a "straw boss" but had been with the Colonel since I was a fourteen- year-old boy, and my extreme youth and conduct in time of danger had attracted his attention and won his affection. He was never married and having no direct heirs, he planned to leave me what he had.
Though the trip to Kansas City was made with as much care as possible with the crude mode of travel that prevailed then, the intrepid
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Colonel failed fast and was very low when the city was reached. He was given the very best medical attention possible, but he soon died.
With the passing of Col. John Chisum the west lost one of its most courageous pioneers and developers. He never permitted fear of the Red- skins or cattle rustlers to interfere with his plans for acquiring a new range or extending his herds. He met them on their own terms and the loyal cowpunchers on his ranch were so endeared to him that they never hesitated to make an ad- vance to meet an enemy at his bidding, or for that matter, at the request of the faithful fore- man that served him.
His remains were returned to Denton, Texas, and laid to rest near the scene of his first great venture in the cattle game. Not far from his resting place lies the famous "Chisum Trail," that he established, leading to the Kansas markets, and that trail still lives in the memory of every "early-day" cow man who remains in this time of the steel rails, and the fast automobiles which travel over paved highways that in Col. Chisum's life were only cow trails.
Not long after the death of the Colonel his creditors came west and soon tore up the great Chisum ranch. What the creditors left, his two brothers received.
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"LET'S HANG HIM"
Our cook at the ranch was Beaver Smith, a Yankee negro. When he got drunk he would al- ways shout the praises of Lincoln. Now, of course that kind of talk did not go very well with the boys. The war between the states was fresh in their memory, and they had all been raised by southern parents, some of whom had lost their lives in the conflict of only a few years before.
One day Beaver got drunk and began yelling for Lincoln again. The boys got enough and one said:
"Let's hang him."
These words usually meant action, as there were very few jails and any offense that was con- sidered a crime called for hanging. Someone went for a rope. But since the negro had really com- mitted no crime, I didn't want to see him hanged, so I said:
"Boys, don't hang him, just brand him."
That idea seemed to suit them, so they got a spade hot. This was the last one of three negroes the Colonel had taken to New Mexico, the other two having been killed as already described. As this was the last one, I wished to do the branding. We laid him on his stomach and I put the Chisum brand on his loin, then jingle-bobbed his right ear, as that was the Colonel's mark.
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WE BID GOODBYE TO NEW MEXICO
After the tearing up of the great Chisum ranges and the passing of the power of the Chis- um organization, the rustler-controlled Mex gov- ernment in the Spanish towns around began to make things hot for former Chisum men. Things continued to get warmer and eight of us left one night for Texas. There was no brass band to play at our departure and no farewell turkey dinner in our honor. We just rode, and when daybreak came we were near the border of Texas, and soon were out of the state of New Mexico.
One week later, by traveling light and fast we were making our arrival at the Chisum ranch in Texas. The Chisum brothers had a few cattle left and one of the old bosses by the name of Fitz- gerald took us on and started out on a round-up of the scattered herds. The outfit consisted of fifteen men. We started for the San Saba river and gathered quite a bunch of cattle.
One morning Coggin and five other men went down the river to make a drive while the other men came around the other side where we were holding the cattle. The river was south of us and there was a range of hills on the north. Where the hills met the bank of the river, it was impossible to cross either the range or the river.
Some of the boys looked back and saw a cloud of dust. We thought it was cattle raising the dust but Coggin said it was Indians. As they came nearer we saw that sure enough a large number of Indians was advancing upon us. We knew that it was useless to run and that we might
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as well prepare to fight.
One man who was riding a fine horse, said: "I will never fight them. I can outrun them." The rest of us got off oun horses and were ready to fight, but the fellow that thought he could out- run them headed his horse up the river. The In- dians were there by then and fired on us but as soon as they saw the lonely figure running away they knew they had easy prey, so they took after him. They chased him to where the hills and river came together and he was in a natural trap. There he was killed.
We rode four miles to a ranger camp to noti- fy them, as there were too many redskins for us to handle. We joined forces with the rangers and tried to overtake the Indians, but failed.
The body of the man that was killed was found and carried back to the ranger camp where it was buried. The next day we went on another round. A long hollow or draw that drained into the San Saba river was selected as the starting point for one drive. The boss left a negro and me to keep the herd moving down the draw, while the rest of the men were scattered on either side, throwing what strays they picked up in to us in the draw. At the mouth of the draw was a big flat where we intended to throw all the bunch of cattle together.
The mesquite trees were very thick and in driving down the draw I thought I saw some horses' legs through the trees. Upon closer in- vestigation I made out that they were in reality horses. When we came to a little opening in the
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IKE FRIDGE, COWBOY
brush we saw that the horses were being ridden by Indians.
The negro said: "Let's turn back."
I told him that the Indians hadn't seen us yet and there was no use turning.
"Maybe we can fool along behind them and they will go on down to where the main bunch of men are."
They finally saw us, however, and then went to running. An Indian will fight if he knows he has the advantage, but in this case they couldn't tell, for the thickness of the brush, how many men were after them. When the negro and I saw they were on the run, we just dropped in behind them and went to shooting and giving the old-time cow- boy yell, which, when given by cowboys on the war path is almost as vicious-sounding as the In- dian yell. We killed one horse but the rider jump- ed on another mount and stayed up with his gang.
The boys at the main holding place heard the shooting and came up the hollow toward us. They ran into the Indians and killed one. We all got together and chased the red men about two miles, but couldn't catch them.
It was late in the fall when the rounding up was completed and we went back to our ranch. There wasn't much work to be done until next spring and the Indians didn't raid us that winter, so we had a few months of quiet ranch life.
In the spring of 1873 things changed. A few people began to move in. A man by the name of Bill Williams lived near Brownwood. He had
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a wife and four children, a six-months-old infant, a girl of six, a boy of eight, the eldest being a boy about twelve.
Williams built a log house but as he had no lumber, he didn't put up any doors. One morning he and the oldest boy had gone to the post oaks to cut timber to build a cowpen. While they were away from the house, Indians came.
The signs showed that the woman put up a desperate fight but she was killed and scalped. The baby was thrown into the fire and they took the other two children and left. Williams heard the shooting and hurried home, only to find his home wrecked. His wife was killed, his baby burned to a crisp and two of his children missing.
He sent his son to the little settlement of Brownwood to report what had happened. The citizens followed the Indians, crowding them so, that they found the boy with his hands tied be- hind his back and his body in the forks of a tree. Th chase led on to Red river but the Indians were never sighted.
Williams buried his wife and baby together. He left the twelve-year-old son at Brownwood and joined the Texas Rangers, vowing he would get an Indian for every hair in his wife's head. He made one of the best rangers on the frontier and did kill a lot of Indians. I was in company with him later and found him to be a likeable fellow, but he sure did hate redskins.
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THE CHISUM WAR
THE BUFFALO SLAUGHTER IS ON
By the middle of the summer great changes had come about. Tenderfoots began to pop up in a hurry and buffalo hunters came thick and fast. The great mass of buffalo began to be slaughtered. The white carcasses were thick all over the prairie. One good buffalo hunter could kill sixty in one stand. If a buffalo leader was killed, the rest of the herd would circle around him and it was an easy matter to kill many of them. The hunters would pile the buffalo hides in their camps and then late in the fall each out- fit would have five or six wagons with six yoke of steers to the wagon. They would haul them to Fort Griffin or other freighting points. Most of the hides, together with the tallow, that was hauled to Fort Griffin ,was sold to Conrad and. Ruth.
The hunters had much trouble with the In- dians but they fought them and stayed in after the Buffalo.
Howard Peak, writing for a Texas news- paper in 1926 has this to say in regard to the buffalo situation of the time referred to here:
"Other than Weatherford, Stephenville, Com- anche, Brownwood, Coleman, Eastland, Palo Pin- to and Jacksboro-the latter was just across the creek from Fort Richardson-there were no towns west of Fort Worth, when the first train arrived 50 years ago.
"Forts Concho, across the Concho river from San Angelo, Camp Colorado, Fort McKavitt, Fort
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Griffin and Fort Richardson, were active military posts, engaged in maintaining peace on the out- posts of the frontier. Abilene was not on the map, nor was Cisco. Buffalo Gap, some 15 miles to the southwest of Abilene, had sprung up as a cattle trading point, but as far west as El Paso, and to the uttermost confines of the Panhandle, with the exception of Tascosa, there was nothing but rolling prairie which was thick with buffalo and antelope. Owing to the fact that the buffalo possessed such a valuable hide, they became com- mercialized and were slaughtered indiscriminate- ly.
Thousands of hunters flocked to the West and engaged in the hunt for this valuable animal. His doom was sealed. The United States govern- ment closed its eyes to the ruthless slaughter, and permitted untold thousands of this life sustaining beast to be killed for the paltry sum of $1 for each hide delivered to covetous dealers who, in turn, shipped them to Eastern markets with great gain.
The writer has seen in one day, in Fort Grif- fin, more than 5,000 buffalo hides stacked in bales ready for shipment. He has also seen in the yards of Morehead & Co., located at the foot of Houston street, Fort Worth, thousands of buffalo hides bound for the Eastern market. It is a cry- ing shame that a country like this should have been so short sighted as to permit the near ex- tinction of this grand and meat-giving animal. Today, only a few thousand buffalo are now in existence, and they are scattered from Col. Chas. Goodnight's ranch in Palo Duro Canyon, near
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Amarillo, to the confines of Western Canada.
"While the meat of the buffalo was savory and sustaining, the hide was the most valuable part of the animal. Unless one has seen these beautiful robes, and slept in the open, and enjoyed their protecting warmth when a cold norther was bearing down on him, he cannot appreciate their benefits. The writer has been in the camps of the Tonkawa Indians, near old Fort Griffin and watched the squaws as they tanned, rubbed, dress- ed and painted these hides, rendering them into soft and furry robes that would grace the homes of a prince.
"The finest of these coverings, measuring from 6 by 8 to 8 by 10 feet, as soft as buckskin, and stenciled on the fleshy side with depictions of Indian scenes and done by tribal artists, often sold for from $6 to $10 and, were it possible to get them today, would bring easily $100.
But, like so many of the treasures of the early Westerners, the buffalo and buffalo robes have passed to the realms of the unknown and are now but a fading tradition."
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IKE FRIDGE, COWBOY
WITH THE TEXAS RANGERS
In the early spring of 1874 the Indians made a big raid. I was with the Texas Rangers at the time. The raiders stole about four hundred horses. They cleaned the whole country and kill- ed several men.
The cowmen and rangers got together fifty strong and went after them. We cooked bread and got some dried beef and tied it on to our sad- dles and followed the redskins. On the second day out, as the Captain and I were riding in front, we saw a creek ahead with heavy elm and hack- berry on the north side and with a little row of hills to the south. The Captain stopped the men and instructed them to wait there while he and I went to the top of a hill to see what we could find. When we got to the hill, we got off our horses and crept to the top. There we sighted a plenty of redskins. Cautiously peering over the crest of the hill we saw them in a valley of ap- proximately four hundred acres.
Their horses were herded by two boys we took to be Indians. The others were under the trees enjoying the shade while their squaws were cooking meat the hunters had killed. The cap- tain and I went back to our men and told them where the savages were. He detailed two other men to go with me to run the Indians' horses off as they charged the savage camp. We did as we were told and as we started the horses, a boy came riding toward me. I thought the best shot would win and fired at him but missed.
He throwed his bow and arrows down and
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ran to me. When he got closer to me he said, "Me no Indian. We run the horses over the hill and round them up." I found the boy to be white and that he could speak some English. The Cap- tain had told me to join in the fight assoon as the horses were started, so after a few words with the boy I left him with the other two men and headed in the direction of the firing.
By the sound of the shooting I could tell the main fighting was drifting up the creek. I spurr- ed my horse into a gallop up the hill and ran upon fifteen Indian warriors. They opened fire on me and of course I had to run. I turned and went to where some of our men were. By that time the Indians were badly scattered. I rode over three dead ones before I got to the white men.
A cowman and the Ranger Captain were down off their horses fighting with a bunch of Indians that were hemmed in a bend of the creek. The captain told me to get off my horse and fall in. I did this just in time to save his life. An Indian was less than twenty feet from him. The Captain got a shell hung in his gun and was try- ing to get it out. The savage was shooting at him and I said:
"Cap, look out or he will kill you."
The Captain said, "He can't hit me."
Just as the Indian raised his gun to shoot again, I shot him under the arm. He fell over on his head.
We killed eight of the enemy and wounded
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quite a lot. The band scattered all over the coun- try and it was impossible to trail them for ano- ther battle until after they came together again. Three of our men were slightly wounded. We went back to our horses. A Mexican we had with us had scalped the dead Indians.
The Mexican could use the Indian lingo and we had him along as an interpreter. When we got back to my prisoner the Mexican talked in the Indian tongue with the boy for sometime. The boy said his people were killed by redskins and he thought they had lived at Lampasas.
When we returned to our camp a couple of days later the cowmen came and got their horses that we had recovered from the raiders.
We found out later from the boy that he had been with the Indians ten years. He said that he had a sister that was captured when he was and that she was a prisoner of the Kiowa Indians. The chief of that tribe was called Rain-in-the-Face. This boy stayed with the rangers for quite awhile. He thought his name was Helms. He gave the paint pony he was riding when he was rescued, to me as a token of appreciation. The boy fol- lowed me everywhere I went and when I was on guard duty he was with me. About a month la- ter the Captain started with the boy to Austin. When they got ready to leave he hugged my neck and cried.
The Governor found out all he could from the lad about his sister and with the help of an officer and friends of the Helms family, made up one thousand dollars to give Rain-in-the-Face
IKE FRIDGE, COWBOY
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for the delivery of the girl on the south side of Red river. It was all arranged through an Indian trader and the girl and her brother were sent to their grand parents in 'T'ennessee.
Three months later I quit the Rangers and went back to the cow ranch.
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UP THE TRAIL
While punching cattle I went up the trail to McAllister in the Indian Territory, with Fitzger- ald, an old trail driver. We carried a large herd and took about all the knocks that were coming to a trail driver.
In those days the cowboys had no bedding. Our bed was our saddle blanket. The saddle was our pillow. We would stand guard all night around the herd of cattle with it raining and lightening. The lightning would play over the long horns of the steers as if they were lightning- rods.
Fitzgerald sold his cattle and we came back to the Texas ranch' late in the fall.
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IKE FRIDGE, COWBOY
MrKINZIE SLAYS INDIANS
There were only two more big Indian raids. On one raid about two thousand warriors and squaws moved on the south side of Red River. They killed lots of buffalo hunters and citizens. Fourteen buffalo hunters fought a lot of the sav- ages for two days and nights. In fact they fought them until all the hunters were killed except one. He made his escape and came back to Fort Concho and notified General McKinzie.
The General picked two companies of men out of his post and hit the trail. With McKinzie as leader the white men overtook the red men at Palodura Canyon. When the Indians were locat- ed McKinzie talked to his men and told them to kill everything that moved as "knits made lice."
The attack was made about daybreak. Every- thing in the camp that could set alone began to shoot but that did not bluff McKinzey. The slaughter was terrific and even the hardened In- dian hater, McKinzie, was moved. He then chang- ed his orders and told his men to capture all they could. They killed, captured and wounded nine hundred of the savages and took fourteen head of horses. All the worthless Indian ponies were killed by the soldiers to keep the Indians that es- caped from catching them later and' attacking the white folks. Then he gave orders to his men to go back over the battlefield and put out of their suffering all of the wounded who could not walk.
He took the squaws to Fort Concho. Later on they were taken to Austin and traded back to the Indians for whites that had been captured by
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them. The government moved McKinzie as the officials were afraid he would kill all the Indians. but he had put the fear into their hearts so that no more big raids were made.
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IKE FRIDGE, COWBOY
FORT GRIFFIN A TOWN OF KILLERS
By that time the buffalo had begun to get scarce. In the spring of 1875 the Buffalo hunters had ta quit as there was not enough of the noble animals left on the plains to pay the expenses of the slayers.
The tenderfeet began to pour into the coun- try and take charge of it. In the fall of 1875 I went to Fort Griffin and stayed there that win- ter as an inspector. My duties were to watch the slaughter pens for stock that might have been rustled from my employers. A number of cow- men went in together on my salary to have me look after their interests there. The government had two hundred Tonkawa Indians at the post that they were feeding and it required quite a lot of beef for them and the soldiers that) were maintained there.
The government bought beeves from anyone who had good stock and it was a temptation to the rustlers to slip in a few head of stolen beeves when possible. I had some lively times that win- ter. Fort Griffin was a wild town. Shooting scrapes were common and lots of men were kill- ed there. To die with one's boots on was noth- ing uncommon, and a killing was soon forgotten for the reason that a more recent one held the public attention.
The soldiers at the Fort were, for the most part, negroes and the cowboys, rangers and buf- falo hunters did not like them. There were a number of bad fights between them and the fights
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seemed to encourage lawlessness.
Since I had always been on the range and on the go, this way of remaining in one place got old to me, so I went to South Texas in the spring of 1876. After gathering quite a herd of cattle we came back as far as Shackleford county, but two years later we came further north in search of better range and started a ranch on the Big Wichita River. This was a rolling mesquite coun- try and the mesquite grass made fine pasture for range-bred cattle.
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IKE FRIDGE, COWBOY
A COWBOY FIGHT
Starting from the little Wichita river in 1879 with an outfit consisting of only four men we took a nice bunch of choice steers to Gainesville, Texas. The Indian trouble was all over and the range was so peaceful that no thought of trouble entered our minds, so after we had sold the steers at Gainesville, and delivered them to a ranch at Whitesboro, the three cowboys with me went on to Fort Worth for a sort of jubilee and general celebration characteristic of one of their type, en- joyed by those who have been long in the open spaces.
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