By J. W. Caruthers, San Antonio, Texas.

[from Frontier Times Magazine, March, 1935]

Fifty years ago last August, in 1884, I was working on the Matador Ranch in Motley county. I went to the ranch in the spring with an older brother and an Englishman, whose name was Hinnons. Mr. Campbell, the manager of the ranch, put us to work building large lumber of corrals including one at Roaring Springs. this one he put us out with a branding outfit. I worked with it until the last of August and quit to go home.

We were then at a large lake west of the ranch on the plains. Each of us had our own horse in the outfit and mine was a roan with a snip nose, very fat, When we finished this one I told the boss I wanted to go home and he gave me a check on Comer & Shear of Colorado City, who were the financial agents for the company.

I left early in the morning and the boss told me to keep a direction of the rising sun and I would reach the east side of the plains about Yellow House Canyon ranch. We had picked up an old horse that belonged to Yellow Houses, so I volunteered to take it back to Yellow House. I rode hard all day, leading this old plug part of the time and changing horses.

Away in the night I stopped very tired, hobbled the old plug and made a large knot in the end of my rope. Then I dropped it into a prairie dog hole, put my head on my saddle and went to sleep. Later on I was awakened by the horses snorting and cutting up on account of a bunch of mustangs that had come up near them. My pony was turning cats at the end of the rope trying to get loose so I fired a few shots and the mustangs were soon out of hearing. I certainly had a time digging my rope out of the hole, but after doing so, saddled up and started on my way again, about three a.m.

That evening I reached the breaks and could see the ranch house. My gallon canteen had been empty since early morning so the horses surely were dry, as there was no water or anything else on this route. When I had left the outfit I had for my equipment, a 45 Colt's, belt of cartridges and a chunk of beef, with a little bread. I also had the gallon canteen, a red blanket and a slicker, for I was bound for my home at Trickham, in Coleman county. I bad a great deal of trouble finding a place to get down in the canyon. On arriving at the ranch I found a big black negro there all alone. The cow hands had been gone a month, so he came down to the gate and said "Whar you going young man?" Well I told him. He was as glad to see me as I was to see him, and he treated me royally.

The first thing I asked for was some water I could drink. I spent the night there, left the old horse there and then proceeded on my way to Colorado City. In the evening I saw a small grass covered one-room shack off to my left and went to see what it was. I found a long lean puncher there, so spent the night with him. When he went to cook supper he said I would have to eat two or three biscuits before I would like it as he had come back home a few days before and found a pole cat in his cabin. In the mixup his sack of flour got "perfume " on it and it was all he had so he had to eat it.

Two days more and I was in Colorado City and went to the office of Comer & Shear, near the railroad station. They were the financiers for the company so I presented them my check . They told me to stick around for awhile and they would give me the money. It seemed a long time but I waited around until they finally paid me and then I got some canned meats and a fresh lot of water and headed east, some 25 miles below, reached Colorado City. I left the Coleman road and I stuck out for Runnells, then county seat of Runnells county. I could see the Moro mountains at the head of Valley Creek and went straight to Runnells across the country. I reached Trickham on my eleventh day, and, believe me this was some trip for a fifteen year old kid.

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