Hunting buffalo on the Little Wichita River

The early settlers in this part of the country did not have the comforts and conveniences people nowadays enjoy, but they were compensated by better opportunities for thrills and adventure,” said John E. Hess, 35220 Ross avenue. “People did not take life so seriously as they do now. Very few of them had established themselves in business, and they were placing themselves in all sorts of attitudes toward fortune in order to give luck a chance at them.

“To a considerable extent they were still nomads. There was always on foot, it seemed to me, an expedition of some sort into the wilderness, undertaken oftener than not merely to satisfy the roving nature of those restless, unsettled people. 

“I accompanied several of these jaunts. The first was to hunt buffaloes. The party was composed of Capt. June Peak, Col. W. G. Sterrett, Henry Boll, Robert Cockrell, Leopold Bohnny and Billie Friedman, and a Mexican cook. Henry Boll took along a two-horse wagon to carry the outfit, including a barrel of salt, with which to preserve the game. The rest of us went on horseback. Capt. Peak was, of course, our guide and commander.

"We left Dallas in November 1876, and proceeded by way of Denton, Decatur and Henrietta, to the forks of the Little Wichita River, where we went into camp. Before we reached our destination we ran out of bacon. We found a ranchman or two who had bacon and hogs, but they refused to sell us any meat, fresh or cured. 

“The scrub oak woods seemed to be full of hogs, and there appeared no good reason why we should not have pork. We accordingly appointed Capt. Peak and Col. Sterrett to get a wild hog. They got one, but by what hook or crook I never was fully informed. 

“Our first task in camp was to weather an awful rain. It came down in spouts and cataracts, a regular Noahian turning inside-out of the clouds, which put the river and its tributaries on the wildest rampage.

"There were plenty of buffaloes, antelopes, turkeys and prairie chickens. The turkeys, which fed during the day in the shinnery oak thickets, took to the tall timber along the river at night, in order to get out of reach of prowling wolves. Our party led by the veteran hunter, Capt. Peak, shot them off the roosts by the hundred, and we fed on them until the odor and taste of turkey made us sick. 

“We saw no great swarms of buffaloes, but the country was covered, with small herds. We were armed with buffalo rifles, which carried a long 45 bullet a distance of 600 or 800 yards. The only cartridge six-shooter in the party was owned by Capt. Peak. The rest of us had the old cap and ball navy six-shooters used in the Civil War. It was just fine to see Capt. Peak ride into a bunch of running buffaloes and with the six bullets in his pistol bring down from four to six of the big fellows. He would ride alongside them and break them down in the loins.

"There were two good reasons why the rest of us did not imitate Captain Peak in this thrilling sport. One was that we were not sufficiently accomplished marksmen, and the other and best that our horses would not stand for it. The average horse is mortally afraid of buffaloes and Indians. A horse gets wind of buffaloes or Indians long before a man can discover any signs. 

“Captain Peak's horse must have been trained to the business. One day Capt. Peak espied a beautiful young buffalo with perfectly black hair, and had a mind to get him an extra fine buffalo robe. The hair of most buffaloes was sunburned until it was an ugly brown, almost red. In the chase the buffalo took to the river, which was bankful and running like a mill race. 

“In right after him, Capt. Peak spurred his horse. Buffalo, horse and rider went under. But up they came some yards down the river and out on the other side, where Capt. Peak killed his quarry, but, for some reason did not take its robe. Perhaps he felt that he had been fully repaid for his toil by the fun he had in the chase. 

“The superiority of a cartridge six-shooter over the old cap-and-ball pistol was demonstrated by the fact that after remaining under water while Capt. Peak was swimming the river the powder in the cartridge was still dry enough to explode. An old cap-and-ball pistol soused in water will be perfectly useless until the powder and bullets had been picked out of it and oiled.

"The Comanches and Kiowas were still roaming the northwest. We saw occasional signs of them but came in sight of no Indians. Worn out by constant riding, tramping and sick of badly-cooked game, we broke camp late in December and started home. The rest of the party came ahead on horseback and left Henry Ball and me to bring up the rear with a wagonload of salted turkey and buffalo meat. 

“One morning we woke up and found ourselves sleeping under a cover of a foot of snow. We drove into Dallas a day or two before Christmas. We distributed our cargo of meat among our friends and declined a Christmas dinner of turkey and buffalo meat which they started to prepare for us, telling them that the only meat we hankered for was bacon.

"Early in January every member of our party was arrested for stealing hogs in Jack County. It was made to appear to us that the owner of the hog which Capt. Peak and Col. Sterrett killed had gone before the grand jury and had our whole party indicted, and the warrants for our arrest had been sent to Sheriff James E. Barkley of Dallas County Bev Scott, one of Sheriff Barkley's deputies served the warrants, assuring each of us, as he placed us under arrest that it was a very unpleasant duty he was performing. 

“Some of the party including Capt. Peak, actually made bond before somebody gave it away that it was all a joke. Colonel E. G. Bower, who was county Attorney of Dallas County, happened to be an old friend of the County Attorney of Jack County, and when Col Bower heard of the swine incident, he asked the co-operation of his old friend in the perpetration of a practical joke on our party. 

“I will add that the theft of a horse, a cow or a hog in Texas of those days was as far as possible from the category of the things to be laughed at. You might kill half a dozen men and have a good chance to get out of it and to keep your standing in the community. But public sentiment would tolerate no meddling with another man's livestock unless it were done on a large scale, as when a cowman appropriated the entire herd of another cowman and backed up the appropriation with a more numerous band of cowboys, as we are assured sometimes happened on the Western range.

"Another sample expedition of the times was undertaken in 1878 by Capt. Peak, Sam Levy (then of Dallas, now of Fort Worth), and myself. We set out with a small camping outfit for Mexico but for what purpose I have not the slightest idea. So far as I was concerned we went just to be on the move. I think the only settlement we struck between Fort Worth and Brownwood was Comanche. There were just a few houses at Brownwood. We went into camp at Embrick's ranch, ten miles this side of Fort Concho. Mr. Levy was a relative of Mr. Embrick, I think. At any rate, Mr. Embrick welcomed us into his neighborhood. 

“Capt. Peak and Mr. Levy left me in charge of the camp while they went to Fort Concho. Late in the day I noticed some Indians or Mexicans, first on one side of me and then on the other. I did not exactly get scared, but when it began to grow dark it occurred to me that I might find a better camping place higher up on the prairie. In moving I passed ranchman's house. About the time I had selected a camping place bullets began to whiz uncomfortably close. As I took up my Winchester, I perceived that the shots were coming from the ranchman's house.

"I called Mr. Embrick by name. He came out and explained that it was the custom in that part of the country for a well-disposed man to give some sort of sign when he passed a ranch house and that as I had failed to observe the custom he felt justified in regarding me an enemy. When my companions returned from San Angelo it was my turn to visit the fort. I had a letter of introduction to one of the sergeants there.

“That night the Indians raided the Embrick ranch and got away with fifty or sixty head of horses. Next morning my companions informed me that they had decided not to go to Mexico, but to come home, and, with my full consent, back we started. If I ever knew what determined them to abandon the trip I have forgotten it.

"Capt. Peak was at that time City Marsal of Dallas, but that did not prevent him from going on an indefinite leave of absence of his own granting on an armed expedition into a foreign country. A few weeks after our return Capt. Peak was elected City Recorder (Judge of the police court), and a little later on he was commissioned by the Government to be Lieutenant of rangers to run down the Sam Bass gang. Such was the life in Texas forty-five years ago.”

SOURCE Frontier Times, November 1923