TX BIOS:  J. F. (Red Horse) Henderson
   Selected and converted.American Memory, Library of Congress.
   
   Washington, 1994.
   
   Preceding element provides place and date of transcription only.
   
   This transcription intended to be 99.95% accurate.
   
   For more information about this text and this American Memory
   collection, refer to accompanying matter.
   
   U.S. Work Projects Administration, Federal Writers' Project (Folklore
   Project, Life Histories, 1936-39); Manuscript Division, Library of
   Congress.Copyright status not determined.
   
   00011
   
   FOLKSTUFF - RANGELORE
   
   Range-lore
   
   Elizabeth Doyle
   
   San Angelo, Texas.
   
   Page one
   
     NOTE: C12 - Texas
     
   J.F. (Red Horse) Henderson has been a resident of Coleman County for
   58 years. Born in Robertson County, Texas in 1864 he came to Coleman
   with his father's family at the age of fifteen and has lived there
   continuously, except when off on drives.
   
   "I can hardly remember when I became a cowhand", says Mr. Henderson,
   "for I think I began to fool with cattle long before I was old enough
   to make a first class hand. My father and four neighboring families
   decided to throw their luck together and try the wild and woolly west.
   Each family had a bunch of cattle, kids, and some horses. The women
   and children, chickens and dogs were all rounded up and the covered
   wagons made ready. Most of the men and boys were to go on
   00022horseback and drive the cattle, which were all thrown together in
   one big herd. We enjoyed the trip through and only had one encounter
   with Indians. They came up in great numbers one morning as we were
   cooking breakfast. They were friendly and only wanted food but we were
   scared almost to death before we got rid of them. We had plenty of
   food but there were so many of them that they almost cleaned up our
   supply and any old timer knew better than to refuse an Indian food,
   whether there was one or a thousand, if he had it. We always felt
   lucky to get off that light.
   
   "When we reached Coleman County we really pioneered in getting
   located. We settled at the foot of some small mountains north of
   Talpa. After a sort of community camping, each family branched off and
   started their own little homes in the good old fashioned way. Our
   first houses were crude affairs but comfortable and by 1884 we were
   all pretty well established with regular ranches and a good sized
   bunch of cattle.
   
   "By this time I was beginning to think I was about grown and was
   considered one of the best cowhands in the country. I joined up with
   the Concho Cattle Company and was with them a number of years. I ran
   cattle from the Concho Country to the Rio Grande. I have been up the
   trail many times and didn't mind the so-called hardships of the
   drives. The stampede was our worst trouble and as that didn't happen
   every night, I can look back on the old days with a memory of more
   good than bad. 00033"Riding bronchos was a favorite sport with
   cowboys. I remember some of the boys once had up a bet on my riding an
   old red horse which we called Baldy, because of his white face. Baldy
   was saddled and brought out and I was ready and to try him. Just as I
   mounted he turned his head around and tried to bite me. His old walled
   eyes looked like new moons and the Devil was in them. Well he just
   stuck his old head down between his fore-logs and bawled like a wild
   bull and tried to turn a somersault with me. As I went over his head
   my new shirt caught on the saddle horn and just ripped it off. I was
   lucky, however, to go over his head instead of under him as the horn
   of a $50.00 saddle was broken off as he went over.
   
   "In 1874 D. E. Sims of Paint Rock and I, drove 2500 head of cattle to
   New Mexico. That was considered a big bunch for one drive and we were
   not sorry when we arrived. We only had one stampede on the way though
   and didn't lose any cattle as was often the case where there were so
   many cattle and not enough hands. This stampede was not unusual in
   anyway. A thunder storm blew up and the loud peals of thunder
   frightened them, so away they went like mad. We didn't have to run
   them all night though and when we finally got them quited about
   midnight, the storm had ceased and they were unusually easy to handle.
   Before we got to the Barr Ranch we were joined by J. F. (Jim) Hinkle,
   who remained with the Barr outfit for seventeen years. He was then
   elected to the senate and was governor of New Mexico in 1923 00044and
   '24. I had not seen the old boy in fifty-two years and did not know if
   he was dead or alive until last summer when he saw my picture and a
   write-up on my range experience in the Fort Worth Star Telegram and
   came to see me.
   
   "When I was with the Concho Cattle Company, there were twenty of us
   boys. Now only five of us are left, so far as Jim and I could learn
   when he visited me. Bob Pierce, our boss lives in Denver, Colorado,
   Phil Wright, is Fire and Police Commissioner in San Antonio, Harve
   Earnest ranches at Water Valley, Ed Harte is a banker in an Oklahoma
   town and J. F. Hinkle is President of the First National Bank in
   Roswell, New Mexico. Last summer when Jim visited me we managed to get
   these five rounded-up and we had our pictures made. I wouldn't take a
   herd of cattle for that group. My children tell me I should have
   looked natural and not tried to hold my squint eye open but you know
   how it is, all the other boys trying to look and feel young as we use
   to. This eye of mine has given me lots of trouble and now I can't see
   out of it at all. You may know we didn't lose any time talking over
   old times when we all got together. We remembered so well a big drive
   near Salt Gap. We had the cattle all rounded-up and were preparing our
   bacon and coffee, while our Mexican helper was stationed about
   one-hundred yards from camps to watch the horses. All at once a band
   of Apache Indians swooped down upon us like a cyclone murdering the
   Mexican on the spot and fleeing with our saddle horses before our
   shots could stop them. 00055They got away with our horses and drove
   four herds of cattle out of Coleman County on across the Pecos River,
   where we caught them. We hunted them for two days and nights after we
   got fresh horses and enough men to handle them. They gave up our
   horses without any trouble, when they saw our bunch as a part of them
   had taken the cattle on and we had them out numbered. We never did get
   the cattle. An Indian is the biggest coward in the world unless he has
   all the advantage or can do his dirt in a sneaky ways.
   
   "The Concho Cattle Company's brand was and read Lazy D.O.H. Their
   holdings covered some fifty miles square.
   
   "When the sheep man began coming in he was resented by the cattle man
   because of his encroachment on his grazing land. So far as I know
   there were more fist fights than gun fights over these differences.
   
   "The gun tales about the old time cowboy are unreasonably over done.
   After Indian depredations had ceased, the gun toatin' cowboy we see on
   our modern screens didn't exist.
   
   "I was in only one bad shootin' scrape throughout my whole cowboy
   career. It was when our boss took a bunch of us out on the plains to
   White Lake near Lubbock, Texas, to get a horse which the foreman of a
   ranch out there had been holding for a debt. We rode up to the door
   and the foreman came out. Our boss offered to settle for the horse and
   take it but somehow they couldn't seem to get together on the terms
   and pretty soon they were fighting. One of our boys jumped off his
   horse to separate them and the foreman hollered 00066for a guy back in
   the house. This fellow came running out and took the boy for a round
   of fist fighting. Just when they were doing pretty well another fellow
   appeared in the door way with a winchester and pulled down on us all.
   Our boss didn't take time to get his horse but broke away on foot as
   fast as he could run. The next shot killed the boy and as he dropped
   to the ground I turned down on my horse's side, put spurs to him and
   was gone. I slowed down as I passed my boss and he leaped on behind.
   We made it to the next ranch, got the boys and a chuck wagon from
   there and went back for our boy. He was still lying in the front yard
   and not a man showed up as we lifted him to the wagon and started on
   our long, slow journey to Snyder, Texas, for burial. His father and
   mother lived near Snyder and had no thought but what he was well and
   happy until we arrived with the body.
   
   "We hear and see a lot about cowboy riggin' and get ups but that, too,
   is exaggerated. Most of the boys in our outfit wore white shirts,
   stetson hats (hardly ten gallon sizes), chaps, spurs, and a kind of
   trousers known as California woolens. Ours was a high classed outfit
   and we would treat even a tenderfoot right until he got smart. We
   wouldn't tolerate any smart alecs in our bunch. We got one such number
   from Virginia once, so one day he got drunk and we poured sorghum
   molasses all over him, from the top of his high silk hat, to the toe
   of his highly polished boots. When he sobered up enough to realize his
   predicament, he 00077made for the creek and we never saw him again.
   
   "If a guy kept his mouth shut and tried to learn, we all helped him
   every way we could.
   
   "One of the narrowest escapes I ever had was when were branding a
   bunch of bulls. One big old bull broke his rope and turned on me,
   grazing my leg with his horn just as I sprang on my horse and made him
   leap the fence. This was all that saved us both.
   
   "I was at a round-up once where two big bulls got into a fight. The
   owner was afraid that the larger bull was going to kill the smaller
   one, so he rode in on the fight and jabbed the big bull in the back
   with a pole. He whirled and made a rush for the horse, struck him just
   behind the shoulder and killed him instantly. As he fell to the
   ground, the man leaped off and barely escaped as he gored the horse
   madly, again and again.
   
   "Bob Pierce was chasing a big bull once, down on Salt Creek. All at
   once the bull turned on the horse like a ferocious beast, ran under
   his belly, lifted his hind legs off the ground and turned him a
   complete somersault. Bob was almost killed in the fall and the horse
   was badly injured. We caught that old Devil and trimmed him.
   "Trimming" consisted of cutting off both horns and tail just as close
   up as the operation could be performed. It always took two or more man
   to trim one and woe be unto them if a rope broke. We trimmed lots of
   the rascals, I'll tell you.
   
   "Plenty of funny things happened at the big round-ups. 00088I remember
   once when about one hundred-fifty men were working together a guy from
   the North walked up to Ben Polk and said 'Well, I've been looking for
   you for a long time'. Ben looked bewildered and stammered out some
   kind of an answer and the fellow said, 'Here's your dollar'. Ben
   looked still more baffled. 'This dollar was given to me six years
   ago', said the stranger, 'and I was instructed to give it to the next
   fellow I met who was uglier than I was, so here it is'. The boys all
   yelled and Ben did look bad sure enough then.
   
   "We started to Oklahoma once with a big herd and camped at Colorado,
   Texas. About 9:00 p.m. we got the cattle all rounded-up on the bed
   ground and one old boy struck a match to light a cigarette. That was
   enough. The cattle went wild. We ran them all night long. Each boy had
   his bull's eye lantern. It is a strange fact that in a plains country
   one cannot see at night half so well as in a broken country. The sky
   line which is plainly visible in a broken country is entirely lost on
   the prairies and if we hadn't had those bull's eye lanterns we would
   have gotten badly lost that night. We got the cattle back together in
   time for breakfast from the chuck wagon next morning by lantern light.
   
   "The boys all called me "Red" or "Red Horse" and I like to hear it
   yet. The remaining five of us, who are 'headin' for the last round-up
   have agreed to have a get-together each summer as long as there are
   two of us left."

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