LEBOUEF'S LETTER ABOUT JOHNSON'S BAYOU History; Cameron Parish, Louisiana Submitter: W. T. Block, Historian Submitted: July 10, 2004 ********************************************** Copyright. All rights reserved. http://usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://usgwarchives.net/la/lafiles.htm ********************************************** LEBOUEF'S LETTER ABOUT JOHNSON'S BAYOU By W. T. Block Sixty years ago I came across an old letter among the papers of my cousin, Eugen LeBouef of Port Neches, who was a muskrat hide buyer at Johnson's Bayou for about 10 years. The letter was addressed to his cousin, Julia, who lived in Missouri, but for some reason, it was never mailed. I think perhaps Eugen got sick and died about that time. Although later I burned a lot of Eugen's old financial records, I kept the letter until it was tattered with age, because it told some things about Johnson's Bayou I never knew about or still hope to learn something about. Mama always said she believed Cousin Eugen was a rascal, and after reading his letter, I am inclined to think she was right. The letter began as follows: "Dear Cousin Julia: I woke up at 10 o'clock this morning, tired out from my trip to Johnson's Bayou yesterday, so I am going to loaf all day today. I left the boat landing in the speed boat yesterday at 2 AM, and I did not get home until 11 o'clock last night." "You asked me to write about one of my trips to the bayou and what is happening there since you got married and moved away. Well, as you know things on the bayou are about the same, since they don't change all that much or so fast. Just as I tied up at Armond Thibodeaux's landing, Arm came floating up in the mail boat and tied up behind me. He told me he needed to take the mail over to Joe Erbelding's house, and not to leave until he could sell me his rat hides." "I started the engine up and headed up the bayou to TiBoy Comeaux' house boat, where I found TiBoy skinning his rats. TiBoy traps for George Raborn on the Stark ratlands. "What you pay for top hides today, Eugen?" he asked. "$2.10 a top hide," I answered. "Aw, naw, that not enough! Top hide is $2.30 a fur today in Abbeville." "How you know that, TiBoy?" I inquired. "Cause that rat man on Abbeville radio say so this morning," the trapper responded. "TiBoy reached over and turned on a battery-powered radio, from whence a voice in French came through the speaker. "I got 300 dry hides, but I gotta get $2.30 for the top hides." "Well, TiBoy, "I replied. "I guess you'll have to take them rats to Abbeville." "How'm I gonna git them rat hides to Abbeville, Eugen? Tell you what, LeBouef, give me $2.20 a top for them and you can have 'em." "I bought his rat hides, but I told him that that was between me, him, and the gate post. I didn't want word leaking out about that all over Smith or Blue Buck ridges that I had paid him more than $2.10 for a top rat. "When I got back to Armond's store, he told me some one had burglarized his store a week earlier, but they didn't get much, just some tobacco and loose change. You remember Orie Trahan, who got gassed during the big war in 1918? Armond took in 50 rat hides on Orie's bill, so I bought 'em. Paid only $2.10 a top too!" "Orie's uncle, Charley Trahan, came in about that time. He knows everybody and everything going on at the bayou. Several others were walking around the store, and I saw an old Ford touring car, 2 buggies, and one horse tied up at the fence. "How many people are trapping for George this year?" I asked Charley. "Oh, about a hundred maybe, about as many as during the muskrat war," Charley responded, as he adjusted his hat a little. "Most everybody traps here a little before cotton plowing starts." "What muskrat war?" I quickly queried. "Oh, I guess that was before your time, back before they hung old Ned Harvey for them murders here. It was sometimes called the Rosenthal-Brown muskrat war; them was hairtrigger days back then when everybody on Blue Buck Ridge was wearing a gun. You sure you got time to listen?" "I told him 'no,' that maybe the next time I saw him. I still had about 20 houseboats to visit, some of them way over in Madame Johnson's Bayou. About that time Armond walked in and asked Charley if he were at the dance Saturday night. "Yeah, I was there, had a great time too. Must have been 60, 65 folks there. Old Touchand Miller fiddled most of the dances, and I two-stepped till after midnight; finally went home so tired I could hardly get off my horse. "By then I knew I had to git going if I made all those houseboats. By 4 PM I had bought over 800 hides, about all my boat would hold, so I headed the speed boat back out the bayou and into the lake. Well, Julia, I hope this finds you well, and if ever I got time again, I'll write you another letter, Your cousin, Eugen." I kept the letter until it got so tattered I could hardly read it anymore, so I put it into my computer years ago, then destroyed it. I thought it might have some information worth saving. After all Grandma Ursula Smith Block grew up on Smith Ridge, along with her brothers, Uncles Albert, Bud, Gus, Otis, and Alonso. And Grandma Sweeney's brothers, John and Austin Buster Smith (no kin to Grandma Block) lived there during the 1880s-1890s. Uncle John farmed and taught school there, and Uncle Buster lost one store in the storm of 1886, but built another one. Yes, half of my roots stem from those cotton fields on Smith and Blue Buck Ridges, and I welcome them as my second home.