Amarillo Sunday News-Globe (Amarillo, Tex.), Vol. 13, No. 33, Ed. 1 Sunday, August 14, 1938 Page: 50 of 264
two hundred sixty four pages : ill. ; page 23 x 18 in.View a full description of this newspaper.
Extracted Text
The following text was automatically extracted from the image on this page using optical character recognition software:
/
BTX—SECTION A
AMARILLO SUNDAY NEW3 AND GLOBE, AMARILLO. TEXAS.
GOLDEN ANNIVERBARV EDITION, 133P
ourtm on
the Rang<
B ALMA McGOWEN THOMPSON
There *re few old-timer* better
or more widely known thnn Walk
Bradly, and none so picturesque.
Boots and broadbrlmmed hat are as
typical of the veteran cowpuncher
as Walk himself is typical of the
old West.
Sturdy and bewhiskered, the jolly
old line rider Is as well known to
the old-timers of the Plains country
u is the famous old T-Anchor Ranch
to which he came, a 19-year-old
boy, In March of 1887.
J. W. Bradly was born in Grayson
County, Texas, August 25, 1867. Prior
to hi; coming West he had had a
severe case of pneumonia, and his
d rtor advised a change of climate.
So young Walk hitched two horses
to an old wagon and headed this
way.
"I was confident I could get a
1ob on the T-Anchor, for my cousin,
the late W. C. Baird of Canyon,
had been vorking with the outfit
several years. And shore 'nough I
did. At that time I was the young-
• taan on the job, but J. C.
'Jim> Moore, the manager, never
hesitated about putting me on. He
just cut me out seven horses for my
remuda and told me to light out..
I was just a kid. all right, and not
very strong at that time, but I
wasn't exactly what you'd call a ten-
derfoot. I had been raised with cat-
tlr and horses, hence I was spared
so.ne of the thrills and many of the
spills of the beginner.
"Of course. I didn't literally start
out the day I arrived. I had been
on the road "0 days and was fairly
ready for a rest. X just monkeyed
around the headquarters getting my
bearings and getting acquainted
with the other boys. My brother,
I R. (Lucy), was working on the
T-Anchor before I came.
"No, I never saw any buffalo, but
there were a few deer in the can-
yons, and lots of antelopes and
mustangs. In fact we tamed some
of those mustangs to be the finest,
toughest cow ponies ever. That
wild herd delt us lots of misery,
t: "Ugh. Often, when our work
horses were turned loose on the
r- ge to get by the best they could,
they took up with the mustangs,
then when we wanted them again
w. had to c them out of that wild
herd.
"Did anybody ever tell you how
that feat of catching the mustangs
themselves was performed? No?
Well, we'd start the herd up running
. three or four of us would.
Y ' see, the work horses would give
out first after about 20 miles . . .
then we'd catch em. But they were
mean things to handle, even worse
than the mustangs themselves, if
they'd been running with them two
or three years.
• • •
"When we wanted a mustang,
we'd follow the herd day after day
until they were worried down. We'd
ride all around them and they'd sort
of get used to us—but we couldn't
change clothes or ropes, or it would
be all to do over again, the getting
them used to us. We'd drive the
herd Into some place where we
could mill them all day without wa-
ter; even at night we'd keep them
milling—to tire them down. Two or
three days of such grilling usually
tamed their fierce outlaw spirit
somewhat, at least to the extent
that they weren't too particular
about how they got water, just so
they got it. In the meantime, we
had set up a snare post and sta-
tioned a ma' thereby near the
d.inking hole and laid ropes around.
Thus we could snare them by the
fe t and draw them to the past—
one at a time.
"After catching the mustang we'd
put a clog on his foot and let him
out with the others that had been
captured. A man stood guard to
herd them, and to keep camp while
the other men caught more mus-
tangs . . .Yes, the wild horses
contentedly over ft bit of aewlng.
She looked up and explained, "I
had five brothers, but they had to
na le me for my daddy!"
Mrs. Bradly went back to her
stitches as Walk added: "After
1888 I rode the train, for the Port
Worth and Denver line was operat-
ing then.
"My wagon boss was Cal Walker,
Cecil Walker's father, and Hannibal
Blaine was cook. He was a pretty
good one, too, even if he was right
cranky. But he had to leave to be
a witness when the court term be-
gan at Vernon. Jim Atkinson took
his place.
•"Whispering Jim' we called him,
because he couldn't t 'k above a
\ hisper. He had be", f c, en when
b< was a stage driver nud had never
since been able to talk above a
whisper.
"And there was 'Old Kentuck'—
no, just wait, now, he was way
gins!' Our gang happened to be
rcplng and branding when Murphy
rode up. After awhile, It being the
ci torn, old Henry Mike, new clothes
and all, and shirt-tall aflutter, re-
mounted and offered to help, say-
ing, 'SI ush let Mishter Schroggins
show you how Ish done," which
he proceeded to do.
"Heading his horse for the big-
gest steer in the bunch he actually
roped him, but somehow when he
gave the rope a turn around his
saddle horn his billowing shirt-tail
caught in it. Unfortunately for
'Mister Scrogglns' his work was fast
and the shirt was new.' Every time
the horse gave slack the shirt wound
tighter, soon forcing him tight
against the saddle horn, and the
steer bucking and Jerking with all
his might! Murphy was almost out
before we could stop laughing long
enough to sc ■> his danger and cut his
lariat. The pseudo Mr. Scroggins
WALK BRADLY—then
would run off when one got snared,
but they came back—for water, you
know. Those fiery wild mustangs
made the very best of tough cow-
ponies—if their owners succeeded in
taming them. But I didn't fool with
them much myself, for once a mus-
tang, always a mustang.
"Often we'd kill the wild horses
to protect our herds, for they'd steal
o- r horses. Then, too, to preserve
our grass for our cattle. It did seem
s' t of ruthless to wantonly kill the
pretty things in their beautiful wild
freedom. I've never seen anything
grander than the leader of one of
those herds—big sleek stallion with
the cunning of a fox and the intel-
ligence of a man!
"The regular headquarters for
the T-Anchor was at Canyon, but
I was out with the wagon mostly.
We worked all the Deaf Smith coun-
try, as well as the Randall country,
and far more. We were not in head-
q iarters oftener than once a month,
until winter when the wagon out-
fits came in. The force was cut
when winter began, and I usually
went south then. The winter of
'87 I rode the entire distance to
Grayson County horseback—I want-
ed to see my ma—but I went by
first to see Willie—that was my
girl."
Here Walk paused to glance over
a' that same Willie who was smiling
MRS. BRADLY
do-.-n the line our next cook was
John Turner, who was later the first
justice of the peace in Randall
County, and later known as 'Judge
Turner.'
"The other boys in my outfit were
Sam Wise, Charlie Moore—now in
Imperial Valley, California; Jim
Patton—now justice of the peace at
Wichita Falls; Graham Lowndes,
brother of Charlie Lowndes in the
Firrt National Bank, Amarillo;
Charlie himself was then our book-
keeper at the ranch; John Dean.
Jim Dillard, Emmet Powers, and
Frank Fonda, whom I haven't heard
of in 30 years. Then there were Nat
Brennon, Price Doekray, Bert Ack-
ley—now stock farming at Cana-
dian; and John Watson—'John
Blocker' we nicknamed him, because
he dragged a blocker rope—so-call-
ed because of a noted Texas roper
by the name of Blocker.
"Our 'Blocker' was a noted mon-
key. a.s .-e'l as a noted roper, always
doing something—purt near nny-
thir._ to somebody. Then there
v as a Mr. Scroggins whose shirt-
tall was always out.
"One day old Henry Mike Murphy,
J who, like Blockcr, was fond of his
little jokes, came out from town all
j dressed tip—probably all lit up, as
j well—and with his shirt-tail out.
Scroggins was away. Murphy strut-
I ted around saying, 'I'm Mr. Scrog-
WALK BRADLY—now
was only too glad to be plain Mike
Murphy thereafter. With a rueful
grin, he swore as he crammed in his
t\ isted shirt tail, " 'S damn good
shirt I bought."
'"And 's a damn good show you
brought.' howled one of our out-
fit.
' I can't remember the names of
all our men; there were 30 mounted
men at the beginning. We ran two
wagons. Emmet Powers ran one of
them—wagon boss, you know. He's
out in Arizona now, near Bisbee, I
th'nk. The wagon outfits would go
to other ranches and work cattle,
and bring ours—the ones we found
—home.
Kansas for th«> T-Anchor'g to run.
They ran them two years. During
that time the DV'j moved out on a
st ip west of the T-Anchor Range
—we called It, the strip because It
1 ' between tl.a XIT and the T-
Anchor. On the strip about two
miles west of Hereford the UV's
built a 'dobe house on what Is now
t' j Jeff Gllbreath place. The
old ruins can still be seen. There
used to be a dividing fence running
- long what is now Cecil Walker's
place.
"The XI-ll's had their herd
taken back to Kansas. I was one of
the trail riders that went along.
That was the 'itter part of October.
Sam Hiser was our cook. He had
filed on a section down where Um-
barger now is, and was in hard
shape. He and another boy asked
for a job with us, so Mr. Hudson
put them on. He always helped out
the old 'nesters' when he could.
"Now, Hiser was a good fellow.
but he was saving to a wasteful
degree. Not wishing t" waste any
of the meat when he butchered a
yearling, he hung the beef up and
cooked the liver first. We didn't
like liver, so most of it was left.
Hiser warmed It over for supper.
The weather was warm—hot for
that time of year, and the beef
spoiled." Oh. we just had to kill
another yearling, but Hiser never
cooked any more liver for us. We
threw if away every time we butch-
ered. Nevertheless, those two boys
narly starved us to death—trying
to learn to cook on a chuck wagon.
"We took the herd through Ama-
rillo, and shipped the older steers
from there. Taking the rest of the
h-rd by trail we headed north and
crossed the Canadian River at 'Dobe
Walls—the old 'Dobe Walls Cross-
ing—went up Wolf Creek, out by
Bearer City, Beaver County, Okla-
homa. It was a neutral strip then.
Thence north to the XI-11 Ranch,
• Ich was nearly due north of
Beaver City, over in Kansas not far 1 horse doctor I ever saw.
stood the cold better had we had
proper food, but we had no cooking
fuel either.
"Another thing that happened be-
fore we got back—we missed get-
ting to cast our votes. It was the
year Cleveland ran for his first
term as President. We hated not
getting to vote. Voting was a
privilege then.
"We were glad to get back, and
w rested a day or two in Amarillo.
There wasn't much to Amarillo
then, but it was a right smart little
burg and had a lot of fine people.
I knew nearly everybody in Ama-
rillo then—the Wares, W. H. Fuqua,
r d Carter and Martin who were
merchants, and others. Doors in
Amarillo had no locks—they were
not necesary. Neither did busi-
ness houses lock up. . . . Oh, I
don't know, perhaps people were
more honest, perhaps It was merely
because a man had rather be called
a murderer than a thief—and mur-
c' rers didn't last long under Wes-
tern iustice.
• • •
Frank Anderson and Mel Thomp-
son ran saloons in Amarillo. No, I
never knew if they had any rela-
tives here: they were probably like
lets of other people here then-
had no kinfolks, told nobody who
they were or from where they came
That's true of many people who are
to be found in frontier places.
"North of the railroad there was
a dance hall owned hr the Woods
Sisters, Ann and Nell. One of the
girls met a tragic death—no one
ever knew just, how—but it was re-
ported that she fell from a hay-
loft and broke her neck. 'Doc' True,
who used to be veterinary for the
XIT or the LIT Ranch, married the
other sister, and they lived in Ama-
rillo. Doc True died about a couple
of years ago. He wr.s in this coun-
try before Amarillo was started. He
was the cussingesl man I ever heard
cuss, but a fine fellow and the best
lng that way. When a stranger
ca.ae to town the postmaster or
somebody else asked wlhch way he
was going, and sr.w that he carried
c t the mail belonging to that parti-
cular ranch which he would be
passing.
Yes, I knew 'Frenchy' McCor-
mick of Tascosa, what old-timer
didn't? No, you'd had to be here
long before I was to have seen her
x-hen she was pretty. She had al-
ready broken before I knew her,
but, at that, you could see traces
of the once famous beauty which
was the toast of many a cowboy
nd gambler for thousands of miles.
Tascosa was a bright spot—and a
tight spot—unless you went in with
your eyes open and your mouth
shut. But I never saw any trouble
there; I wasn't there very much.
. . . Oh, yes, I whooped 'em up
sometimes with the rest of the boys,
but that didn't amount to anything.
"Do you know, ft was funny how
rarely one ever saw a dollar In
those days. Why, I remember one
time my bass paid me up—gave me
my $30 check, my month's wages,
and I lit out for Tascosa. Hadn't
been to town in a month, and it was
my night to howl. There was no
bank to cash my check, so I went
into a saloon, called for my drink,
and gave the bartender my check.
He just looked at it and handed it
back, saying, 'I'm sorry, no c inge.'
I went into an eating joint, had my
supper, offered my check in pay-
ment, but could get no change there.
Next I went to a hotel, got my room,
| a ' again offered my check—with
the same result:
"Well, I thought I was in a fix,
but I stayed in town two days and
nights, had all the drinks I wanted,
all the food I wanted, a place to
sleep, and a rlp-roarlng good time,
and still had my check when I got
me. There was plenty of money
at Tascosa, all right, but everything
wa~. freighted out of Dodge City, and
everybody did their banking there.
They didn't want to pay out $30 in
cash when they'd need what they
had for other things. Anyway, all
I was out was the pleasure of jing-
ling some silver in my pockets.
Many people say that Tascosa was a
bad place, but the only place that
had a lock on It was the jail.
• * •
"Notes were unheard of in those
early days, except, . t banks. But
nobody knew what notes were for;
a man's word was his bond, and
as good as he was. If i man need-
ed a loan or anyt' ng, somebody
let him have it and went on about
h ■ business knowing he would get
it back sooner or later. I don't re-
member who started the first bank
in Amarill'1, but I think that Car-
ter and Martin had the first big
mercantile store. The first house in
Amarillo—a livery stable—was built
In 1888 by Tuck Cornelius. Ama-
rillo might be proud of the fact that
her first building was a livery stable
and not a saloon, as is the case in
most cities. The first residences
were over on the creek, west of
Ainarillo's present site. It was call-
ed 'Ragtown' because it was just
tents where the railroad workers
lived.
"Sure, we had some social Ufa
ot t in the range country—bronco
busting and parties, or dances, and
people went for thirty, and even
fifty miles if they heard In time.
There wasn't any such thing as 'my
set' and 'their set;' everybody was
(Continued On Page 30)
from the present Meade City.
"Taking a herd across country In
those days was no snap, and It took
a long time to make such a long
trip. Cold weather hit tis before
we got there. The only particular
trouble we had was the cold. We
early froze crossing that neutral
strip nobody lived there; no wood,
Just cow chips left when the herd
had crossed coming down some two
"Tascosa was our posto'fice the
first two years after I came to this
country. . . . Oh, it didn't seem so
far, Just 50 miles as the crow flics,
a.id the Canadian River to cross. It
was just a day's ride over and a
day's ride back. Sometimes we
made the trip In a buckboard with
two mules hitched to it. People
weren't in such a hurry in those
days. We had time to talk and to
DEAFENED
You Have Hearing
Use It!
"Yes. each fellow had his parti- !
cular friend or chum in each out-
fit. I guess Sam Wise was my pick.
We didn't know whose clothes were
vhose. And there was Jim Patton—
guess we were just as good friends I
as were Sam and me. We'd stand
guard for each other, night or day, j
when the other wanted to go some
place. Day herding was harder
maybe, but night herding seemed
longer. We'd bed the herd down at
n'ght and two or three men could
guard them. . . . You bet they'd
run off if the guards left them.
"Let's see. T believe it was in '87
that the UV's and the XI-ll's!
brought their herds down from
years before. We had to look for ; visit, and ^'e always got there and
old bedding places to find even ! back, which is more than many '
cow-chips to burn. That wasn't! people do these days. We didn't •
easy, for what dim trail there had i have to make frequent trips after ;
been had grown over during that t e mall, though, for the postmas-
time. We had to just strike out across I te saw to it that mall was carried
the country, hoping we'd find the ! out to the various ranches by any
old bedding places. We might have I si ranger who happened to be head-
Prove to yourself that you have usable hearing.
Come in and see the new crystal Acoustiscope—
"see what you hear." Let us demonstrate the
small and convenient to wear Coronation Acousti-
con.
Our Tribute to the
Pioneers of the Panhandle
Helen Jean, Patrick Henry and
Ex-Soldier Joe Omlor
PRIVATE DEMONSTRATIONS in Our Office or in
Your Home. Visit Us TODAY! Ask for Free
Booklet.
Consult your Doctor, then
Get the Genuine ACOUSTICON
... and HEAR!
ACOUSTICON INSTITUTE
WM. A. CHESHIRE, Manager
412 West IOth Phone 2-3542
Amarillo, Texai
4
THE C. B. RITTENBERRY AGENCY,
oi
THE LINCOLN NATIONAL LIFE
INSURANCE COMPANY
OF FORT WAYNE, INDIANA
ALL FORMS OF LEGAL RESERVE LIFE INSURANCE AND ANNUITIES
+
NET ADMITTED RESOURCES
$139,346,395.87 $953,695,951
Important Facts About The Lincoln National Life
INSURANCE IN FORCE TEN-YEAR GROWTH OF ASSETS NEW PAID BUSINESS LAST YEAR
1928 $ 61,214,000 <£1 AJLi
1937 $139,346,000
000
+
THESE TRAINED REPRESENTATIVES CAN HELP YOU SOLVE YOUR LIFE INSURANCE PROBLEMS
C. B. RITTENBERR Y-CENERAL AGENT
14 Years in Amarillo 4 16-17 Fi*k Building
Office Phone 2-05 I 8—Residence Phone 7917
Mrs. R. F. Stewart W. H. Pavillard Mrs. Winifred L. Babb Mr. F. J.Mahan C.S.Allen Herman E. Charles, Hereford Charles Jack Dean, Hereford
3
I
Upcoming Pages
Here’s what’s next.
Search Inside
This issue can be searched. Note: Results may vary based on the legibility of text within the document.
Tools / Downloads
Get a copy of this page or view the extracted text.
Citing and Sharing
Basic information for referencing this web page. We also provide extended guidance on usage rights, references, copying or embedding.
Reference the current page of this Newspaper.
Amarillo Sunday News-Globe (Amarillo, Tex.), Vol. 13, No. 33, Ed. 1 Sunday, August 14, 1938, newspaper, August 14, 1938; Amarillo, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth299921/m1/50/: accessed April 30, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Hutchinson County Library, Borger Branch.