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527
It was in the clay hills of Mississippi, February 5th, 1863, where I first sprung to light. My father, being an officer in the Confederate Army, soon saw the cause was lost and in 1865 ran the blockade and came to Texas. Hence, Texas got another missionary. In 1870 we landed in Medina county, where I grew up, among the hardships of a frontier life, as there were no churches or schools to go to. In 1863 I left the Lytle ranch on the Chicon creek with a herd of horses and went to Kerrville where we began receiving cattle to go up the trail. We bought the cattle between Fredericksburg and Blanco City, and in a few days we had two thousand cattle under herd. The first night we herded out we had the worst stampede I ever saw. At twelve o'clock at night when I went to call first relief, the cattle came right into camp where the boys had the horses tied to a fence. Several broke loose, dragging rails and coming into the herd. I tried to cut them off from where the horses were grazing, all being hobbled, but they beat me to them, soon got mixed up and turned down a lane with a mad rush, cattle, myself and horses. We went f or some time bef ore I could get around to one side, and then held them until daylight, when I got help from the camp. We remained there several days getting the cattle together, at last hitting the trail with some three thousand steers and had but little trouble until we reached the Red River at Doan's Store. Zack Stucker, our boss, had gone ahead to look for a crossing on the river, as it was up very high from spring rains, and when he came back he ordered me to get ready to cross at two o'clock in the evening. I informed him that all the boys were drunk as old man Doan had some wagon-yard whiskey, and that we had better not cross as the men would have to swim, and a drunken