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Family History Stories Paraphrased
Page 20 of 38

Lawrence H. Dow
Lee Roland
Looks are Deceiving
Los Comanches
Los Oremus
Louie Taren

Begin Family Histories: 

Lawrence H. Dow
By Edith L. Crawford
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: Lincoln
Surnames mentioned: Dow, Dowlin, Bartlett, Peppin, Brady

I was born in Lincoln, Lincoln County New Mexico, August 26, 1877. I have lived in Lincoln county for fifty-eight years. My father Eugene W. Dow was born in St. Lawrence, New York, in 1832. He left home when he was sixteen years old and went by boat to Galveston Texas. He served as a carpenter's apprentice in Galveston and learned the trade. He worked at his trade all around through Texas and as far as Arizona. On July 20th, 1855, he enlisted in the army as a carpenter. He was a sergeant in Company B of the Eighth Infantry, and fought in the Navajo War of 1858, in Arizona. He was discharged from this company on July 20, 1860, at a fort in Arizona. He worked at his trade as a carpenter for a while in Arizona, and in 1861 he came to New Mexico and re-enlisted in the army on July 30 1861, for three years. He fought in six battles with the Indians in 1862. One of these battles was at Fort Craig, New Mexico, on February 20th, 1862. He was never wounded in any of these encounters. He got his discharge July 3, 1864, at Albuquerque, New Mexico.

He married in Albuquerque and followed his trade as a carpenter for a while and then went to the saloon business. His wife lived only a short time and after she died he sold out his business and moved to Fort Stanton, New Mexico in 1868. He helped to build a number of the old buildings that still stand at Fort Stanton today. After finishing his job at Fort Stanton, he and a man by the name of Tom Kinney went to Ruidoso River, to a place about twenty miles southwest of Fort Stanton and they built two mills for Will and Paul Dowlin, a grist and a saw mill.

This was known as Dowlin's Mill and part of the old building and water wheel are still on the spot, and are today one of the show places of Ruidoso. My father and Tom Kinney staid and ran the mills for the Dowlin Brothers for a couple of years. While there they met and married two sisters, Isabel and Concepcion Hill, of Tularosa, New Mexico. Father went from Ruidoso to what was known as the Alamo Spring, and squatted on a piece of land there, but he was so very far from any neighbors about ten miles from La Luz that he had to give up his place on account of the Indians. While he lived on this place he cut prairie hay with ox teams and hauled it to Fort Stanton and sold it. On his trips to Fort Stanton he always took his carpenter tools along, as on these long hauls the wagons were always breaking down and Father would repair them. Sometimes he would be a month making the trip to Fort Stanton and return. After giving up his place at Alamogordo Springs, father moved to Lincoln, New Mexico, and lived there for awhile, working at his trade as a carpenter. 

In the fall of 1877 he moved to El Paso, Texas, and lived there for three years. He moved back to Lincoln, New Mexico, in 1880, and bought a piece of land from Charlie Bartlett, three miles east of Lincoln. he farmed and raised corn and sold it to Fort Stanton. He used oxen to do all his plowing and hauling. In 1883 or 1884 father took up a homestead adjoining his place. He first built a frame house on his place and it burned, then he built a three roomed adobe house which is still standing and has the original shingles on the roof today, that he put on when he built the house. Father and Mother both died at the old home place near Lincoln. During the Lincoln County War my father never took sides with either faction. I was married on August 7, 1904, to Carrie Peppin, of Lincoln, New Mexico. She was a daughter of George W. Peppin, who was sheriff after William Brady, who was killed by Billy the Kid. We have eight living children, all of whom were born in Lincoln County, and have lived here for the most part, all of their lives. I have lived continuously in Lincoln County since 1880. I served Lincoln County as Deputy Assessor for two terms and am now finishing my fourth year as Assessor, making eight years of service in the Assessor's office, since January 1, 1930 to December 31, 1938. Source: Lawrence H. Dow, Carrizozo, N.M. Aged 61 years.

Lee Roland
By Georgia B. Redfield
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: General, Chaves
Surnames mentioned: Mayers, Roland, Ashinhust, Lea, Tingley, Allison

Lee Rowland was appointed W.P.A. State Administrator of New Mexico, by President Franklin D. Roosevelt, in July 1935. Mr. Rowland is a Roswell man, has lived all his life in Roswell and received his education in the State of New Mexico. He is the son of Bort Rowland and Jennie Lea Rowland, now Mrs. John Ashinhust, the grandson of Judge Frank H. Lea, an early day settler and builder of Roswell and the Pecos valley.

Lee Roland was married February 1, 1921 to Mrs. Fay White Mayers. The couple have one child, a boy named Lee Rowland 2nd was born November 2, 1932. Mr. Rowland named for Judge Lee, and like his grandfather was before him is a loyal worker for the good of the state, and for the interests of the people of New Mexico. He is a prominent Mason, and Elk, and is a member of all the civic clubs active in the building and improvement of Roswell and Chaves County.

His services have been invaluable to Roswell as City Engineer, and to New Mexico as State Highway Commissioner. Mr. Rowland rendered valuable service to his country during the World War with the 23rd Engineers, Highway Regiment Company 1, stationed in France, in charge of immediate rebuilding of roads and bridges when destroyed by the enemy. Many tributes of praise have been accorded Mr. Rowland for his selection of work projects which will be be lasting benefits for the State, as well as having provided work for many thousands of the needy.

During the years 1935, 1936 and 1937 there have been building and improvements of schools and public buildings with health and comfort the first consideration. Beautiful parks for diversion and memorials have been built and splendid construction of highways, furnishing work for hundreds of men. Innumerable thousands of garments have been made for the needy by women workers on sewing projects.

The N.Y.A. is furnishing work and valuable training for the youth of New Mexico. The Carrie Tingley Hospital for Crippled Children, located at Hot Springs, Sierra County, New Mexico named for Mrs. Tngley, wife of Governor Clyde Tingley, instigated and sponsored by Governor Tingley and Lee Rowland, is probably most valuable of all institutions, built as a W.P.A. project, in benefit which will be derived from treatment here for little crippled children of the present and future generations of New Mexico.

There have been 104 completed work projects in District No 2 under the personal approval and supervision of Mr. Rowland, and Henry Johnson, Director of District No. 2 which comprises Chaves, Otero, Lincoln, Eddy, Curry, Roosevelt, DeBaca and Lea Counties. Forty-five projects have been discontinued and sixty now operating in District No 2 with 1,143 relief workers and 85 non-relief workers employed at the present time of April 1, 1937. Given in Interview by Jennie Lee Ashinhust, mother of Lea Rowland. Charles L. Allison, Jr. W.P.A. Bldg., Roswell.

Looks are Deceiving
By W. M. Emery
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: Union
Surnames mentioned: Zurich

We were moving cattle to pasture down below Hayden. It was nearly a three day trip, and we tried to make it to some ranch to stay nights. The second night out we stayed at the comfortable, modern home of the Old Cattleman. The Old Cattleman is a pioneer in this country. In the early days he worked for some of the larger ranches; first as cowpuncher, later as wagon boss and then foreman. After the Old Cattleman married he went into business for himself. He bought a ranch in the southeastern part of Colorado and settled down to raise a family. When the children were old enough to go to school he sold out and took them to Texas, where he put them in school.

But he was never happy away from his old stomping grounds, and his old friends, so he drifted back to New Mexico, and bought the ranch where he now lives. He has buffeted the storms of drought, depression, and the more tangible storms of dust, but through it all has hung on with grim tenacity characteristic of men of his calibre, and is once again coming to the top.

I was glad to have an opportunity to stay with the Old Cattleman. He had been a good friend of my father's, and I had known him since boyhood, but it had been years since I had really visited with him. After eating a hearty supper, we settled into comfortable chairs around the fireplace, and lighted our pipes. Gradually the conversation changed from topics of the day to cattle, and then to the Old Cattleman's favorite topic--horses.

The Old Cattleman was in a reminiscent mood and told various interesting stories of experiences he had had, and men and horses he had known. Finally the talk switched to cowboys trying to kill one another's horses on long rides, and the following story is one the Old Cattleman told of one of his experiences.

I was down at one of the Bell camps on the Canadian, and was preparing to go to Clayton the next day. About sundown a stranger rode in to camp. We invited him to come in and have supper and spend the night. The next morning, when he found that I was going to Clayton, he said he was going that way, too, and would ride along with me.

He was riding a fine looking, close built, trim made bay horse. I was riding a big, consumptive looking black horse, whose neck was not much wider than your two hands. He didn't look like he could travel any distance at all.

Well, we hadn't gone far when the stranger began making fun of my consumptive and old plug, as he called him. Then he kicked his horse into a run. I didn't see any sense in hurrying so we had all day to make the trip, but I wasn't going to be left behind by that stranger, so I kicked my horse into a run too.

We went faster and faster, up hill and down, over rough and smooth ground; slowing only to cross creeks and arroyos, where it was too rocky to lope our horses, then back to the same old grit. The miles flew past and the sun rose higher in the sky, but the stranger showed so signs of slacking his pace, so I didn't either. I knew the staying qualities of my horse, even if he didn't look like anything.

At last the buildings of Clayton could be seen in the distance and we were still going strong. When we got nearly to the Pierce Creek, I noticed that the ears of the stranger's horse were beginning to flop, and his tail was bobbing up and down like it was going to bob off. I just thought to myself, Well, that old boy's horse is about done for and he don't know it.

We reached the bottom of the creek, and the horse stopped dead still. He refused to budge an inch. It wasn't quite three miles to town, so I just went on in. When I reached the livery stable, I gave my horse a good rubdown and rinsed his mouth and nostrils out with cold water, but didn't give him a drink. I walked him around, and worked with him over a half hour before I fed and watered him.

When I was satisfied that he would be alright, I went to the hotel for my own dinner, as it was noon then. I visited with some of the men on the street, and loafed around town about two hours before I started back to the stables to get my horse. Just as I reached the stables I met the stranger coming slowly down the street on his exhausted cause. I walked up to him and told him I'd been waiting for him as I was going on to Kenton, and thought maybe he wanted to ride that far with me.

Heck no! I don't want to go to Kenton with you, and I don't ever want to see you again, he barked at me. I laughed at him and went on and got my horse. I rode on to my ranch north of Kenton, that afternoon. It was about six thirty when I got there. I had made the trip from the Canadian to the ranch, a distance of about 105 miles in about twelve hours, and my horse was still in good condition, even though he did look like a plug and a consumptive.
Sources: 1. Zurich, Jack, Stead, New Mexico. This story was told to the writer by Mr. Zurich, on a recent visit to the Zurich Ranch, which is about 45 miles south of Clayton. Mr. Zurich is The Old Cattleman of the story.

Los Comanches
By L. B. Brown
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: General, Mora
Surnames mentioned: Mascarenas, Corona, Antonio, Vigil

Si Senor, if my daughter had not put iodine in my eye in place of the medicine given me by the doctor I would be out with my sons helping them plow. These were the first remarks from Sr. Vicente Romero of Cordova after we had exchanged salutations and I had commented on his good health. After a lapse of several years I had found my old friend partially blinded due to his daughter's unfortunate mistake.

And for the grace of God who has given me my good health and the company of my wife I give thanks. Fifty-seven years have gone thru this life together. I was married quite old, when I had thirty years. I have lived a very active life and it is hard for me to be sitting here by the fireplace so useless. Around him were eight grandchildren, just a fraction of the twenty-six he has, not counting great grandchildren.

Not always have I been so helpless. If I do say so myself I have never been afraid to work or to risk my life to acquire the necessities of life for my family. And when I was young we were surrounded by so many savage nations that any trip away from the village had to be made in force. Four times I have been on trading trips to the Comanches and three times to the plains on buffalo hunts. We used bows and arrows and the lance as weapons when hunting at first. Later we were able to trade for meat at Santa Fe. We would take venison and fish and other things to trade in Santa Fe. There were many deer then and the rivers were full of fish. But everything comes to an end in this world.

The first two trips to the Comanches I went with my uncle Guadalupe Marquez, who was the commandante or leader. I learned enough of the language and customs so that the last two trips I went as commandante. Our first trip took us about three months. We took salt, blankets and strips of iron for arrow-heads. We also took big packs of a very hard bread, which our wives baked especially for trading to the Indians. Another article of trade was dried apples and plums.

We went by way of Penasco and Mora. When we came close to Fort Union we would wait until night to slip by the Fort. The Americans did not want us to go into the Comanche country because it might cause trouble. After we had gotten by the Fort without being seen we would have to hunt for the Indians. These savages were always traveling, hunting or following the buffalo herds, so that we never knew where we would find them. We went here and there over the plains looking for signs of the Indians. When we finally found the trail of a large group, in which there were signs of women and children, we knew we were close. Following this trail until the sign was quite fresh, our commandante ordered us to make camp. Locating the closest water supply we started to unpack. While we were doing this our commandante made a smoke signal on a high point near camp.

Now boys, in the morning we should have the Indians here and we can start to trade, he said, Be very careful how you act with the Indians. We did not sleep very much that night. In the morning we were surrounded by a large group. They made camp next to us, the women doing all the work. The children and the dogs made lots of noise. At first the children were afraid of us but after a few days became very friendly, always begging for something. The Comanches are a very fine looking Indian, light complexioned and well built. There are many savage nations on those plains. On one trip we traded with a group of Kiowas. It is a good thing the government guards these savages because if they ever fought us all together they might kill us all off now that they can get good rifles.

After a sort of feast with the Indians we started in to trade. This would take a long time because there would be much talk over each trade. Sometimes an Indian and one of us would fix up a horse race. They liked to bet and that way we won many articles from them. We did not stay in the same camp but traveled from spot to spot with our customers, following the buffalo trading as we went. I enjoyed this life very much. It was very new to me, we were always watchful and on our guard for some act of treachery on the part of the Indians. But they had need of the goods we had to trade so they treated a trading party with a certain regard and usually avoided any act which might cause trouble. We were more careful than they were perhaps, always thinking of our families and the goods we were to take home with us. The younger men in our escuadra would run foot races with the Indians and amuse ourselves in other ways, such as breaking horses and contests with the bow and arrow. We had wrestling matches in some of which I took part. I very often raced a grullo, dark gray, with a black stripe down his back and on each shoulder, which was favorite hunting horse with first one and then another of their horses. I won six out of about nine races and not being held back by thoughts of a wife and children at home, bet many blankets and other articles and so added considerably to my store of goods, because my grullo was pretty fast. Another young fellow, Anacleto Mascarenas, two years older than myself remember I had only eighteen years, almost brought calamity on our little escuadra, troop or gang.

For some time several of our group had had conversation with a young girl of the tribe, who had been taken captive from some place in Texas, San Antonio del A rbol she called the place. Where that place is I don't know. She had tried to persuade us to take her away from her captors, promising us that her father would pay us in gold and cattle, should we return her to her home. Her story was that the Comanches had seized her as she was taking some clothes to some servant women washing at a stream near the house. As she was passing a clump of wild plum bushes three of these painted savages had jumped out, took hold of her, one of them closing her mouth with his hand to keep her from crying out or screaming. They led her to where they had left their horses. One of them took her on his horse and rode off, followed by the other two. A short distance from her father's ranch they were joined by others in charge of stolen stock, also belonging to her father. She was shown the mutilated bodies of two of her father's herders and by sign showed her what to expect if she did not go quietly. One of the men who had carried her off had made her his wife. Pobrecita! She had to work very hard like the rest of the Indian women. Her pleas were very pitiful and some of us younger fellows felt like risking a rescue.

In every important decision our commandante's word was final because we had entrusted ourselves to his care and given him full authority. Some of us took up the girl's case with him for his decision. We could almost guess what his decision would be. There were two of us who did not care so much about the gold or reward from her father, but had dreams of taking this really muy bonito captive as a bride, and enjoying the surprise she would cause when our folks saw her after the Salvo to San Antonio. It was the custom for any group returning to Cordova from a hunt or trading trip, to discharge their fire-arms at the crest of the ridge circling our home village. This salvo was in honor of our patron saint of the village and was a means of announcing our arrival. Those were very joyous times and I will never forget the first time I belonged to one of these returning parties. But let me finish telling you about this girl. I was one of two who wanted to take the girl back with us, but our commandante said, No, it can't be done. Any effort to free her or take her away might destroy our whole party, as far away as we are from home and as few as we are for the number of Indians against us. Even if we were so lucky as to get her away with little or no loss none of us could ever return to trade with these Indians. But Mascarenas insisted and threatened to carry her away against the commandante's orders. He secretly made preparations to do so. When the commandante found this out he ordered Mascarenas seized and bound until he gave up his plan and promised to obey our leader's orders in everything. This seemed very cruel, but it was very necessary for the good of our whole party. So the Pobrecita stayed there with the Indians, perhaps for life. Asi le toco, that was her fate. Those were very hard times.

I remember now something that happened on my last trading trip with the Comanches. Among our party was Jose Antonio Vigil and his son. This man was later known as El Capitan Vigil. He was afraid of no Indian or twenty of them even. I could tell of many deeds of valor of his against the savages, but now I will tell you of what happened on my last trip. I was in charge as commandante and our whole group was composed of men from Cordova or El Valle. This man Vigil had a very fast and enduring sorrel horse which was known as El Alazan. The Indians coveted this animal and Vigil received many offers for his horse. One Indian even offered him two captive women amongst other things. This was a good offer, for these captive slaves were very much in demand among the ricos and prospective bride grooms and brought a very good price. But Vigil refused all trades because he could not bear to part with this very excellent animal.

Early one morning Vigil and his son left camp after antelope without my permission. He was very far from camp when he and his boy were overtaken by an Indian known as Capitan Corona. This Capitan Corona was so called because of the peculiar way his hair grew. At one time in some fight his enemies had started to scalp him while unconscious, thinking him dead. The operation revived him before his scalp had completely parted company with his skull. Being a renowned fighter he had scattered his would be scalpers. However his scalp did not fit back snug to his

skull like it had been before. It had grown back in a bunch on the top of his head making a crown-like growth. And that was the reason for his name, Corono meaning crown. At any rate he was a very tricky Indian and a fighter with a reputation, being a chief amongst the Comanches. This day he hailed Vigil and his son and catching up with them rode along between them. Being as eager as any of the other for Vigil's horse he started talking trade as they rode along. Jose Antonio being always on his guard pretended to agree to trade so as to keep Corona in good humor. The tricky savage decided to get the horse for nothing because without warning he knocked the boy off his horse with a club which he carried in his left hand. At the same time he reached over with his right hand and pulled Vigil off his horse with his right hand. All this was done very suddenly. However he was not quick enough for Vigil, who at the instant drew his knife. Catching Corona in the pit of the throat he ripped him open completely disemboweling him.

His first thought was of the trouble he might cause the rest of his companions. Putting the body on the Indian pony they covered any marks of the fight, buried the body quite a way from the scene of the fight. His horse was taken to the edge of a cliff where he also was killed and his body pushed over the edge. Riding back to camp late that night I was awakened and told what had happened. Vigil after telling of the fight said, I have brought this trouble on us myself. My boy and I will leave tonight. The Indians missing us will think that Corona has taken us captive. If you folks make no fuss the Indians will believe as I have told you. As soon as you finish trading you had better leave because they might accidentally find the body. I leave all my goods in your care to take to my family in case I do not get home. But I will not stay, and make trouble for the rest of you. This is the only way. Adios amigos. Vayan con Dios, I answered.

There was no doubt that everything was for the best this way. Luckily it rained very heavily that night covering their tracks and the Indians were suspicious they finally must have believed as Vigil that they would when Corona failed to show up also. This was another time when one or two individuals suffered in order to preserve the safety of the many. I am glad to say that Vigil and his boy arrived safely home after many narrow escapes from the Indians and from hunger.

Jose Antonio lived to found Cundiyo, settling it along with his sons and their families. His descendants and the descendants of his eight sons were the reason that in Cundiyo today the only family name you hear is Vigil. Here in the defense of Cundiyo from Indian raiding parties Jose Antonio received the name of El Capitan Vigil. The Indians learned to leave him alone after he had killed several of them and Cundiyo was fairly safe from their raids.

One time I remember Capitan Vigil was taken to Santa Fe to show how he fought against the Indians. With his body wrapped around with a raw-hide rope and with his shield he kept off the arrows which were shot at him. I think it was the captain of the American soldiers at Santa Fe who took him there for this exhibition. I do know that he came home with a team of mules and as he said with $300. American money. He was a very valiant man; very famous for his valiant deeds.

After finishing with our trading we made preparations to leave the Comanche country. The Indians escorted us for three days out of their country. They did this with all trading parties when the trading was over. After again slipping by Fort Union we were very happy to be on our way home. We were still in some danger from Apaches or Navajos who liked to come thru that part of the country to raid the pueblos and even on horse stealing trips among the Comanches. The Comanches were very great enemies of the Navajos. One Comanche told me that the Navajos were all magicians or practiced witchcraft. To prove this he said that whenever they were about to overtake a bunch of horse thieving Navajos they would turn themselves and and the stolen stock into soap weeds and they would have to return empty handed. That is why they had no use for the Navajos. 

The closer we got to our homes the more we pushed our poor horses with their loads. And, thanks to God, we finally reached Truchas and now we were practically home. Soon we were firing our firearms in the Salvo to San Antonio. We could see the people on the roof tops counting us as we rode down into the village to see who were missing. My poor mother cried with joy to see me back safe. The next few days were filled with feasting and the nights with dancing. Blessed be God. Those were the times. This was my first trip to the Comanches and I was to make many more, but I always remember this one especially.

Los Oremus
By Dr. Lester Raines
Mary A. Fulgensi
Counties: General, Santa Fe, San Miguel
Surnames mentioned: Fulgensi

Until a few years ago there existed, and may survive yet, at Las Vegas and Santa Fe the custom of asking Oremus. Groups of boys of the lower class joined together and asked for gifts from house to house at Christmas time. At each door they sang little couplets, each one beginning with the Latin word, Oremus. New Mexico housewives usually prepared and gave out quite generously a special supply of Christmas goodies for Los Oremus. Source: Mary A. Fulgensi.

Louie Taren
By Frances E. Totty
Paraphrased by C. W. Barnum
Counties: Dona Ana, Socorro
Surnames mentioned: Taren, Gomas (Gomez?)

When I was eight years old I ran away from home with some cattle thieves and came to Silver City where I have lived off and on for the last sixty years. When I came here my father had me brought back home which was down below El Paso.

In the summer of 1884 my father with eleven other farmers of the valley decided to bring to Silver City fruit and vegetables as they sold very high here. grapes Grapes were 25 pounds apples two pounds for 25 cents and other things in according. When we were nearing the Cook's Peak area, they were warned that the Indians were out and as this was one of the most dangerous part of the country they were warned to be as careful as possible. When they were nearing Cook's Peak the Indians attacked the ox drawn carts. The way of traveling at the time was in two wheeled carts with a fairly large bed to carry to carry merchandise. The caravan was soon massacred and the complete load of merchandise was destroyed. hen When the new was brought back to the valley that the men had all been killed we were a heartbroken broken group of people. In my anger I swore that would get revenge as well as kill the Apache that killed my father, and bought a gun and started on the trail the very next day. I came back to Silver City, and believe it or not I have never killed an Indians in all of travels over the frontier.

I had been in Silver City but as short time when I secured a a job herding sheep out at the present peak, some six miles from Silver City. One day while herding the sheep saw the Indians coming, some were afoot, other horse back, and the women were pulling drags made by tying logs together. These drags were used to place the spoils of the trip on, and the women pulled them as well as doing all of thee the for the warriors. There methods were very cruel. The Indians that I saw passed me as I hid behind some rocks and went on down the road where they massacred the Gomas family. I stood and watched them butcher small children unable to give them any aid what ever. I soon saw while the Indians were so interested in their spoils and mutilating the families that I could escape to town and let the people of Silver Silver City come to the scene. 

I rode to town as fast as possible, where the people formed a rescue party, but all to late we arrived back to the scene and all of the people were dead, some were scalped, some were badly burned over the fire while some of the children were hung on meat hooks. This part of the work was always left up to the squaws to do, which it seemed they took great delight to to see who could be the most cruel. We followed the Indians all over into the land, but were unable to ever overtake them, but as long as we followed them we found a trail of blood. Over on the river we found where they had gone into a small hut, and killed an entire family, and placed one member of the family that wasn't dead from the attack the stove to burn they had held him by some means on the stove until he died, and then left him there to die. This one illustration of their cruelty wasn't unusual.

I was never able to be in conflict with the Indians no matter how badly I wanted to kill some of them and I still hate them for I feel that some of their parents were the one that killed my father. I have had to hide several times from as many as twenty five to a hundred Indians for I always knew that I would get killed if any of them were to see me as I was always alone on the range when I saw them. I can speak a number of Indians dialect, but I learned them for commercial purposes rather than for my desire to associate with the Indians.

I was at one time the courier for this district. I have received twenty dollars more than once to go from Silver City to the Black mill a distance of eighteen miles. I would leave town after dark on a company horse go to the mill with some letter. Wake up who ever the letter was addressed to and get their answer and return to town. I did all of my work after dark, as they were rather superstitious about fighting after sundown. I have in my collection out at the ranch a number of interesting relics which I intend to donate to the state in the near future.