TX BIOS:  E. E. Steen, Sonora, TX
   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
   
   Range-lore
   
   Elizabeth Doyle
   
   San Angelo, Texas. Tales-Personal Anecdote
   
   RANGE-LORE
   
   E. E. Steen of Sonora, Texas, came from DeWitt to Sutton County when a
   youth of nineteen. He engaged in the ranching business with his father
   when only a lad and made the change to Sutton County because of his
   interest in sheep. He relates his ranching experience as follows:
   
   "When I was a boy back in DeWitt County it seemed that I was always
   the one selected to go up the trail. I don't know if I was considered
   unusually good or not but I was always willing and ready to go and
   enjoyed everything, hard times and all.
   
   "I never knew of anything that would set off a bunch of cattle on a
   stampede like a polecat.
   
     NOTE: C12 - Texas
     
   00022About the hardest and longest drive I ever made was due to one of
   these boogers getting into a herd of 2,000 cattle. We were on a drive
   from Live Oak County to San Antonio, Texas. We had finished with
   supper, the riders had gone on duty and the cattle were grazing around
   as quietly as I ever saw them, when all of a sudden, whew! we began to
   sniff and the cattle began to snort and they were gone. Like a
   thunderstorm they roared over hills and valleys, every cowboy doing
   his best to stop them. Not a man slept that night, nor the next. We
   ran those wild things five days and nights. I slept about four hours
   in that time and it rained constantly. I have always thought of that
   as my worst experience on the range. This singin' to cattle that you
   hear so much about was as much to keep awake as to quiet the cattle;
   however, I do think that cattle have nerves just like folks and that
   the right kind of music is just as quieting to them. You will hear a
   lot of different tales about this, though, and I guess most of them
   are partly right as this was really done for several reasons and had
   more than one result. Keepin' location was one of the best reasons, so
   one cowboy would not over-ride another and keeping up some constant
   sound or noise so any other sudden noise would not be such a shock was
   one of the many very good reasons for singin'.
   
   "Some of our hardest drives were made at night. We 00033would hold the
   cattle on the grass in daytime and get what sleep we could, then start
   out again that night.
   
   "The wild Indians were about all gone by this time. There were several
   reservations around and they were not as civilized as some would
   think. Every time we went near one of these the Indians would always
   demand something. A beef, a horse or a blanket usually satisfied them.
   
   "There were plenty of bear, antelope and deer, so we never lacked for
   meat.
   
   "We had a tenderfoot come into camp once and he wanted more than
   anything else to kill a bear. That was all he talked about, so a
   dev'lish fellow and I got together and planned to take him a-huntin'.
   Just any way to play a prank on a feller was part of our daily duty.
   We had an old gun in camps that would purty nigh change ends with a
   guy every time he shot it. It was kept back for the new-comers. We got
   old Betsy out, rigged her up and gave her to Ben. 'That's the bear
   gun, Ben, you never miss with her', said my partner. 'Just hold 'er on
   the bear, pull the trigger and the game is yours.' 'Fine, fine', said
   the stranger, 'I shore can do that.' Sam looked at me and winked. We
   were not to be disappointed. Pretty soon we saw an old bear standin'
   under a big bluff, lookin' just like he had parked there especially
   for Ben to practice on. 'There he is, Ben', I said. He was so excited
   I don't think he ever got the gun to his shoulder 00044before he
   fired. It kicked him in the chest and knocked the breath out of him
   and over he went. Of course the shot went wild and the bear ran off.
   Ben was much more concerned over the loss of the bear than his own
   injuries. He took it all so good naturedly though, that when we got
   over our big hurrah we said that we would see that he got a bear. We
   helped him learn until he got to be a good hunter and killed many
   bear. He never failed to get a big kick out of every one he ever
   killed.
   
   "One of the best of pranks was to run through camps shaking a saddle
   after a new-comer had gone to sleep. He always thought a wild horse
   was running over him.
   
   "Nope , I never saw a woman cook in a cow camp but have seen quite a
   few women ride and rope, especially in Coleman County. I know a Mrs.
   Morris there, who was the best woman rider I ever saw. She could ride
   anything, just like a cowboy. I always wanted to see her try to ride
   an old grey Mexican horse. He was the meanest devil I ever saw, grey
   with a black stripe right down his back, just as plain as the stripe
   down a skunk's back. His mane and tail were black and I thought he was
   the prettiest thing I ever saw. I never saw him rode but once. A
   seventeen year old negro boy named Lon McKnight was the best rider I
   ever knew and he would ride the old gray horse until he pitched
   himself down, then it would be the same thing over again the next time
   he tried him. I saw the negro after he was twenty-five years old and
   he told 00055me he had never found a horse that could throw him. He
   was as good a rider as Spear Hudson was a shooter. Spear was a dandy.
   I have seen him take a six shooter, turn two birds loose at once and
   kill them both.
   
   "When the sheep men started coming into the cattle country their worst
   problem was water. The cowman did not want to share his water and
   grass. I have hauled water in barrels from creeks, wells, rivers or
   anywhere I could get it. That was our only way of keeping our sheep
   alive until we came into our rights and bought and owned our own land.
   
   "I would have been working right on with my sheep now, I guess, if I
   had not got so crippled up with this "rheumatiz". I was about 75 then
   and sort of had to take out.
   
   "I've just had this new brick house finished here and hope I can spend
   the balance of my days in a little comfort."

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