TX BIOS:  F. J. (Sam) Wootan
   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
   
   Beliefs and customs - Occupational lore [118?]
   
   Page #1
   
   FC
   
   Phipps, [Woody?]
   
   Rangelore
   
   Tarrant Co., Dist., #7
   
   F.J. (Sam) Wootan, 73, born June 17, 1864. on his father's farm in
   Madison Co., Tex., learned to ride a horse as soon as he was strong
   enough to sit on one alone. His father established a ranch in Llano
   Co., Tex., in 1874. After liquidating this ranch, he established
   another on the Mason and Llano Co., lines. Bankruptcy forced him out
   of the cattle business in 1902, and he went to Llano City to live. Sam
   went to Mexico in 1887. He established a ranch located 150 Mi. S. of
   Gallegos, Chihuahua, Mex., in 1900. He now owns 1500 head of cattle
   and resides on this ranch. His story:
   
   "I was born on my father's farm in Madison County, Texas, on June 17,
   1864. [ouldn't?] it have been swell if I had been born two days later.
   When all the [negroes?] would celebrate my birthday. Well, anyway,
   this farm I was raised on was kind of an unusual farm because my
   father was so interested in cattle that he dabbled in stock more than
   he messed with farming. He left the farming more to the fellows that
   worked. I don't remember the acreage because dad established a ranch
   when I was only 10 years old, or in 1874. I was a pretty good hand by
   that time, having rode a hoss since I was big enough to sit one. I
   expect I could ride as well as the average cowmen when I was 10. I was
   an expert cowboy at 15, and at 17, I won all the roping laurels in my
   county.
   
     NOTE: [???]
     
   "This ranch Dad established was in Llano County, pretty close to
   Llano. We started out with a small herd and had ups and downs that
   were something to think about. He run about 10,000 head at one time,
   and had two brands. One of them was the [IW?], and the other was the
   [?]. He sold 3,500 steers to Bill Goode at one time.
   
   "Now, I don't remember whether Bill Route had a ranch, or owned a
   brand. I don't remember whether he road branded these 00022steers or
   not, either. A road brand was usually a figure added to the original
   brand. It could be any figure, such as a 6, or an 8. I do remember
   that I joined the herd after it was started on the drive to Honeywell,
   Kansas, where Bill Goode had sold them. Some of the cowboys that
   worked for dad were in the drive too. That driver was an interesting
   thing.
   
   "Of course, the old timers had educated the Indians to the fact that
   it wasn't worthwhile to raid the drives, so we didn't have that to
   bother with. We had stampedes to contend with. You had that in any
   bunch. It sort of depended on the weather. If you had bad weather,
   stormy, or hail, you could depend on a stampede. A stampede is a thing
   you don't have rules to go by. It is more of a spontaneous thing. The
   steers decide to run, and you get out and do your dead level best to
   get them to stop by trying to turn the leaders and getting the herd to
   milling. There would be some of the boys flanking the herd to keep
   them from scattering that way too. Another thing about stampedes is
   that just anybody couldn't turn a herd. You had to be a top notch
   puncher and riding an ace hoss to be able to get out in front of a
   herd that is doing it's best to go someplace in the least time
   possible.
   
   Now, I would like to describe just how it is to be out in front of a
   thundering herd that wouldn't think a thing about running over you and
   smashing you beyond recognition, describing the dread you had of
   having your hoss step in a gopher hole and falling down on your leg,
   holding you 'til the herd could run over you, and [all?] about it but
   I couldn't tell it if you had a gun on me. [As?] I said before, they
   started to running, and you did the 00033best you could, and in the
   end, so much had happened that you couldn't remember it all. Besides,
   you were so tired that you didn't crave to chin about it. You know, I
   have read tales and descriptions of stampedes but I couldn't for the
   life of me, tell you about those I was in.
   
   "Now, the tales I mentioned, that's a thing there was plenty of around
   a cow camp. If some of the boys that were best at telling them, had to
   live as long a life as the tales would indicate, they would be as old
   as old Methuselah. My mother always wanted me to sleep in the big
   house but the older I got, the more I worked the cattle in the company
   of other punchers, and they would tell me about the good times they
   had in the bunk house, the more I wanted to bunk with the cow hands.
   
   "Mother finally gave in, and I went on down and slept in the [crum
   incubators?] with the other fellows. We always sat up late so the
   fellows that could tell the tall ones could see which one could best
   the other. I heard some mighty interesting things but the ones that
   interested me the most were about Old Mexico. We fellows never saw but
   just a few women on the range, and it is natural for a young fellow to
   be interested in them. These fellows knew this so they just fixed me
   up with tales of beautiful senoritas in old Mexico.
   
   "One old fellow by the name of Slim Pickings told one that I liked to
   day dream about. It was mighty romancing. He says that he was riding
   through the country with his season's wages in a special money belt
   that fitted up under his left shoulder, and under a pistol holster
   that he had and carried over his shirt. He had enough money to keep
   him and wasn't especially looking for 00044a berth but was just taking
   in the scenery. He found a dead Mex' kid about 15 miles from Ruiz, and
   picked him up to take him into town so he could be identified. On his
   way in, he met an old [peon?] that recognized the kid and took it for
   granted that Slim had killed him and was taking him some place to hide
   him. This old peon was riding a donkey and he took out toward town as
   hard as he could whip it. Well, Slim was riding good hoss flesh and it
   wasn't a hill to overtake the old peon so he just did it. He finally
   got it over to the old peon that he didn't kill the kid but was just
   taking him to town so someone could take him home.
   
   "This old peon takes Slim to the kid's home. The kid didn't have any
   parents, but he was supporting a sister. Now, this sister was an eye
   full, and here she was, nobody to take care of her. Nobody to cut the
   wood, nobody to bring the grub home, nobody to help her in any way.
   She was in a tight place, and there Slim stood. He says it was all his
   just for the taking. A good place with about 35 head of cows, plenty
   of wood, and opportunities for increasing the herd.
   
   "About the time the senorita begins to let up on the crying jag, in
   walks an old Mex' woman with about 10 kids trailing. This old Mex' was
   big, fat, sloppy, and barefooted. He could just see himself there for
   life with about the same thing so he faded out.
   
   "Now, this business of the women getting fat didn't fade me. I figured
   there must be plenty of good looking senoritas without marrying one of
   them so I got a craving to do Mexico. The more tales I heard about it,
   the more determined I was that my star shone 00055in that land of
   golden opportunity. Another tale a fellow by the name of Bob Winkle
   told, was about finding old Aztec Indian treasure chests. He said that
   parts of Mexico was once well peopled with wealthy Indians that had
   big cities and lots of gold ornaments.
   
   "Bob says that while riding through the country in search of a place
   to light, he run across an old Mex' in a cave, high up in some hills.
   This old ox' was dyeing, and because Bob tried to help him, the old
   fellow started to babbling about gold bars in a cave near this place.
   Bob pays no attention to the babbling in order to revive the old man
   enough to tell a straight story and give a good description. The Mex'
   never comes to enough to tell it good but Bob thinks it was close to
   where he and the old fellow was. We says that he buried the old man,
   and then started into searching but since he was short rationed, he
   couldn't stay long enough to find it and left. He never did get ahead
   enough to go back and the gold is bound to still be there.
   
   "Well, this just added more fuel to the craving I already had so I was
   hard to hold on the place. Seemed like nothing ever happened on the
   place. When we were down on the farm, I often heard about rustlers and
   outlaws in the cow country but I never saw one. I'll tell you another
   thing. You never saw nor met a an old timer that would voluntarily
   tell about killing a man or hanging a rustler. I pumped a many a one
   but I never got results.
   
   "One morning after we had been missing a few cows, the sheriff showed
   up and asked my mother where Dad was last night, or if he had been
   home, I don't recall just how it was worded but I do remember my
   mother's reply. She says, 'Huh! I've got too 00066much to do to ride
   herd on that maverick. If you want him wet nursed, do it yourself!'
   
   "This thing happened a couple of months after the boys got back from
   the trail drive to Honeywell and it was almost winter. You know,
   ranchers don't do much work in the winter. Just as little as they have
   to but dad tells the sheriff he and some of the boys were out hunting
   strays in the brush and never got home 'til late. You know, they never
   did find out who hung them fellows. Couple of fellows and myself went
   out with the sheriff's party to cut them down. Some way or another,
   they thought it a good idea to let them hang all day so some of the
   other fellows throwing a loose rope could get an eye full. Maybe I
   should say, a healthy eye full.
   
   "In the Fall of '79 when I was about 15, Dad gets the idea that if he
   had more land, he could raise more cattle and make more money so he
   leases a place on the Mason and Llano County lines. He couldn't rid
   himself of the first place 'til after we moved so I don't recall who
   bought the place. He makes a big splash in this new ranch and is going
   fine along about the time I decides to light out for Mexico.
   
   "I was 23 at the time, and had my own cow pony. [?] hoss I called
   Belle, and she was a good one for sure. Dad bought me a brand new
   saddle, and paid $35.00 for it. You could buy them more expensive in
   those days but this was above the average price paid and it was a
   beaut. I had a pair of boots about two months old and they still had
   the new on them. I had a ten gallon sombrero that I only used for
   dress purpose, so it was good too. Then, my two pearl handled, colts
   45's were shiny and pretty, and the 00077Winchester carbine that I
   carried in a saddle scabbard was kept in ace condition. I forgot to
   tell about the snakeskin band on my sombrero. It was a beaut and had
   eight pieces of silver about the size of a silver dollar on it. Man! I
   looked the part of a big rancher on dress parade.
   
   "Well, the boys all throwed a party to give me a sendoff that was a
   honey. After saying goodbye, I started out. When I got to Juarez,
   Mexico, across from Elpaso, Texas, I rounded out, or put a finishing
   touch on the education I got on the ranch. When I got to Juarez, I
   decided to do the town. Here I was, all macked out and getting the eye
   of everybody around so I decided to give them all a chance to see me.
   I starts out at the Central Cafe which, by the way, is now almost a
   land mark because it has been there so long.
   
   "After a few drinks, I meets three fellows on a sight seeing tour from
   Fort Smith, Arkansas. They seemed to have plenty of money but didn't
   like the taste of liquor very well. They were sampling it occasionally
   to get a little experience. Now, thinks I to myself, here is an
   opportunity to add a little to the kitty so I asks them if they can
   play poker. One of them wasn't very gabby but the other two said they
   all played a little back in Arkansas. Well, now this was right in line
   for me so I suggests we use one of the semi-private booths you can
   have there in the old Central.
   
   "We gets to playing, and I wins every pot for the first hour. Man! I
   was going like a house a-fire and stood to clean 'em out like a
   prairie fire. About the second hour, I just won 00088half the pots but
   I was breaking even and stood to get back into the winning streak
   again. You know, at the end of about four hours playing, I had lost
   every cent I had. About $350.00. The quiet fellow won everything from
   all three of us, but he was nice about it. He gave us a saw buck to
   get a drink with.
   
   "The other two fellows and myself goes and drinks this money up. While
   we are drinking, we decides that we have been took so we makes an
   agreement to hunt this fellow up and make him come across. [We?]
   agrees to spread out and the one that finds him, come back and get the
   other two so we could all three be there and have a better show. Well,
   I hunts and hunts and hunts. I never saw the man we were looking for
   nor I never saw the other two again. When I look back at it all now, I
   must have been one of the kind of fellows that made [DEL: [?] :DEL]
   life/ a thing to be enjoyed by gamblers.
   
   "Well, there I was without a cent to eat on and I didn't want to wire
   dad for money because he would laugh at me when he sent it. The first
   thing I did was to trade my sombrero to a fellow for his old hat and a
   little boot. Next, went my bear skin chaps, and so on 'til my hoss was
   the only original thing I owned. I decides to light out of town and
   look for a berth on one of the Mexican ranches.
   
   "These ranches had Mexicans working mostly and I sure didn't like to
   work with them so I changed jobs just about evry month or two.
   Sometimes I had to pull my belt up a notch or two because the well
   known southern hospitality didn't run on down into Mexico. The best
   people to feed a hungry fellow was the peon class that didn't have
   enough to feed themselves. I was 00099used to a country that had the
   latch string hung on the outside for folks to come in and help them
   selves. Why, if a fellow found out that you had passed by without
   going in and taking a little coffee or something to eat, he would be
   mad and would bawl you out.
   
   "I rode and worked around over a good part of the Northern part of
   Mexico 'til I got a job on the 8-8 in the State of Chihuahua. The only
   thing I ever found out about the owners was that a group of Texas
   bankers controled it and hired American ram rods to run the spread.
   The few years I was on the 8-8 were happy ones. I had a job with a
   gold bunch of men that would share with you and give you the shirt off
   their backs if you asked for it. The only folks that had any trouble
   was the ram rods. They only held their jobs as long as the rancho
   showed a profit for the bankers. Sometimes we would have two or three
   ram rods in one year when one of them would get shot, or the count
   didn't measure up, or he would be too bossy and would have to leave
   before the boys put him in his three by six.
   
   "The last ram rod they had and the one that was running the spread
   when I left was straight as a string. The bankers imported him from
   somewhere in Texas because he hated rustlers so. We never told it but
   rumor got around that a wild bunch rustled his parents[?] herd and
   killed them too. He was the hardest man on theives I ever saw. If a
   man was just suspicioned to be a loose [looper?], he just disappeared
   some day and nobody ever knew what became of him. We began to connect
   him with all of these disappearances but you couldn't pin anything on
   him and nobody wanted to anyway. That's another time it paid to keep a
   stiff upper lip and not even talk to yourself.
   
   "This is the kind of a man that began to show up in Mexico. 001010It
   seemed like so much stealing on large and small scale had turned the
   Mexican people stronger against stealing than they were against
   murder. The ram rod's influence over me and the other boys caused us
   to feel that stealing was the worst of the crimes and we spread the
   feeling wherever we went.
   
   "The result is the Mexico of today where there is practically no
   stealing whatever. The only stealing going on is the starving man that
   takes a calf here and there. [As?] far as the tourist trade is
   concerned, they can be sure that they will never be bothered by
   thieves. Tourists spend millions of dollars in Mexico today, and the
   Mexican government wants to keep it that way so that explains in part
   why a person's property and life is safer in Mexico than any where
   else in the world.
   
   "Why, you take the United States here. Things happen every day like
   the thing that happened to my brother in law. He was running a filling
   station half way between Fairfax and Ponoa City, Oklahoma, and a car
   stopped there one night after he had gone to bed. The men argued him
   into going down and giving them some gas. He went down, and after
   filling them up with oil and gas, they shoots him and takes what
   little change he had in his pockets.
   
   "Result, a widow with a filling station to run that she couldn't
   possibly hope to run, and three kids, [DEL: they :DEL] the fellows got
   a light sentence for second degree murder. If it had been in Mexico,
   they would have been shot on sight for the robbery and then they would
   have been given a light sentence for the murder. You know, if a man
   doesn't stand to gain by a killing, he wont kill. If he knows he will
   meet instant death without [mercy?] for 001111robbery, he aint so fast
   on the trigger.
   
   "Well, lets get back to me now. In the days when the cattlemen were
   cleaning up Mexico, there was a good deal of rustling going on. You
   didn't know when you went to work for a rustler because it was so
   common. You just hired out, and if they told you not to be so careful
   about the brand but just round up everything in sight, you knew you
   were working for a rustler but you didn't dare to say anything.
   Besides, these [?] paid higher wages than anybody else. The only thing
   about it I didn't like was the way they went out of business. They got
   kind of floaty, sort of dancing in the air [literally?], with a rope
   around their kneck connected with a good stout tree limb. That was one
   of the reasons I kept changing jobs.
   
   "When I started in with the right crowd, there were some that were
   rustlers and just changed sides in order to drive rustling from
   Mexico. They realized there was steady money in ranching, and not near
   so hazardous so they pitched and helped clean up. I saved my punching
   money for a couple of years and got me a lease 150 miles south of
   Gallegos,/ State of Chihuahua Mexico, where I started a small spread
   of my own. There wasn't any limit to the acreage I could use so I had
   plenty of room to grow. Today, I run 1500 head of fat cattle on this
   place and 500 that belong to Manuel Garcia. This Garcia is a fellow
   that doesn't have much cow sense so he shares with me for me managing
   his herd. That satisfies him and just tickles me plumb pink. He calls
   his brand the, 'Walking X' or [?]. My brand is the X Bar, or X.
   
   "The reason you were able to meet me today is because I came in to see
   about marketing some cattle. This is my first trip to the States in 15
   years. My folks live at Fairfax, Oklahoma.

************************************************************************
USGENWEB ARCHIVES NOTICE:  These electronic pages may NOT be reproduced 
in any format for profit or presentation by any other organization or
persons.  Persons or organizations desiring to use this material, must
obtain the written consent of the contributor, or the legal representative
of the submitter, and contact the listed USGenWeb archivist with proof of
this consent. The submitter has given permission to the USGenWeb Archives
to store the file permanently for free access.

http://www.usgwarchives.net/

Thanks to the Library of Congress
http://memory.loc.gov/ammem/wpaintro/txcat.html
***********************************************************************