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Cattle trail legends and history
abound, but most of the theme do not include Hispanics. I
found the account of A. F. Carvajal, a Hispanic cowboy from
South Texas, of the Kansas trail in the 1800s. He and other
Hispanic men, judging from their names, descendants of the
South Texas Hispanic settlers drove cattle from Texas to
Kansas and Nebraska.
"In the early part of March 1882, Mr. Collin Campbell
employed my brother to get hands and carry a heard of cattle
to Kansas and Nebraska. The following men were employed:
A. F. Carvajal, Miguel Cantu, Brijido,
Don Hilario, Francisco
Longoria, Melchor Jimenez,
Juan Bueno, Anastacio Sanches, and a man by the name
of Luna, and old cook. The cattle were gathered by Jake and
Jim Sutton, and we started from the Ecleto Creek, Campbell's
ranch. We penned the cattle the first night in Fred House's
pens, and the next day we drove them in the direction of
Gonzales. We crossed the Guadalupe at or near Gonzales and
traveled through a very thick brushy region to Lockhart,
from where we went to the Colorado, crossing it below
Austin. At this placed we fired the cook for getting drunk.
We went from there to Georgetown, through Rockdale, Salado,
and Belton, making about fifteen miles a day. Our route
carried us on to Lampasas, where there was a roaring spring
and four or five houses. We proceeded due north and crossed
the Brazos and passed through Valley Mills. Thence on the
west side of Nolan River, west of the Chisholm Trail. Here
we learned that the Comanche Indians had killed two persons
just above where we were, then we traveled eastward and went
by a small place called Cleburne, and on to Fort Worth,
where we purchased supplies enough to enables us to cross
the Indian Territory. From Fort Worth we drove to Montague,
thence to Red River Station, where we crossed Red River and
went due north about thirty miles east of Fort Sill. When we
had crossed Red River all of us bucked on our six-shooters,
for we expected to have to use them. We were on the Chisholm
Trail in the Indian Nation, and on the Wichita River some
Indians came to us and wanted us to give them some cattle
for allowing us to pass through their country. We gave them
a few lame cows, and they never botherd us any more. When we
reached the Canadian River it was on the rise and swimming,
but we made our cattle go across and about twenty of them
were drowned. We followed the old trail and crossed the
Cimarron River at a place where there was a grove of wild
plums. Some men lived in a little house at this point who
made it their business to trade with the Indians for furs
and buffalo robes. We crossed the Arkansas River about forty
or fifty miles west of Wichita and went on towards
Ellsworth, Kansas. When we got to Ellsworth the owner of the
herd, Collin Campbell, was there waiting for us. We had been
in the road four months. While traveling through the
wilderness some of the boys roped and killed a few young
buffaloes, and we found it very exciting sport.
At Ellsworth, Kansas, Mr. Campbell gave my brother a
compass and a map of Nebraska and told him to take the herd
to the North Platte, so we started on our way. Just before
we left Ellsworth a man by the name of Crump, who was
searching all of the herds for road cattle belonging to
Captain King, found a few steers in our herd, and through
the advice of our friend, Kilgore, who was there with a
herd, we turned back. After leaving Ellsworth we had
difficulty in getting enough water for the cattle until we
reached the Solomon River. Here we were met by a crowd of
about twenty armed men who told us we had crossed the
deadline, and could not water the cattle there, and that we
would have to go up the river some twenty miles where we
would cross on the public lands. They permitted us to water
our horses, and gave us orders to move on. Our cattle had
not had any water for three days and some were almost
perishing. The twenty men left us before dark, and a little
while after they were gone there appeared a lonely "short
horn," riding a big horse, barefooted and with a small cap
on his head. We hailed him and asked if we owned the land
near there. He said he owned a section about half a mile
away, where he lived, but said his neighbors did not want
anybody to take cattle across the river for fear of the
Texas fever. We told him if he would allows us to water our
cattle on his property we would give him two cows and calves
or $100 in money, and remove our cattle as soon as they had
watered. When they had slaked their thirst we gave him two
cows and calves and got him to accompany us twenty miles up
the river, where we crossed to the other side. This was near
a pace called Republican City. We traveled due north for
several days and saw many buffaloes. One day about noon they
began going by and at six o'clock that evening they were
still passing. Our horses stampeded at the sight of them and
my brother had to follow them about eight miles before they
could be overtaken and brought back. We proceeded on in the
direction of the Plate River, and when we reached that
stream we turned westward, following the Northern Pacific
Railroad which ran in the direction of Salt Lake City. From
Fort McPherson we went to North Platte and at ranch near
there we delivered the cattle to the purchasers, and started
back home. We were on the trail six and a half months from
the time we left Karnes county. Of the crowd of boys, who
went with us on this trip only three are now living, myself,
my brother, V.P. Carvajal, and Francisco Longoria."
A. F. Carvajal, 231 Simpson
Street,
San Antonio, Texas
Source: J. Marvin Hunter and George W. Saunders, The
Trail Drivers of Texas (Nashville: Cokesbury Press,
1925) 839-842.
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