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our faces southward and in due time arrived safely at our starting point in Goliad county. Nothing apart from the usual happenings of the trail life took place on this trip. Abilene was a wild and woolly town in those days, at least it seemed to be to a country boy out on his first jaunt. There was plenty of game on the trail, Indians, buffalo, deer and antelope. The principal hotel in Abilene was the Drovers' Cottage, Mrs. Lou Gore, proprietress, which was general headquarters for all cattlemen. After a five months' trip I arrived at home pretty well hooked up, my earthly possessions being a suit of clothes, a pair of star-topped boots and two dollars and fifty cents in cash for my trip. Well done, good and faithful servant !
I went up the trail three years for Jim Read and one year for W. G. Butler of Karnes county. When I was growing up I learned to play the fiddle, but there were only two tunes that I could play to perfection, one of which was "Seesaw," and the other was "Sawsee." Often I have taken my old fiddle on herd at night when on the trail, and while some of my companions would lead my horse around the herd I agitated the catguts, reeling off such old time selections as "Black Jack Grove," "Dinah Had a Wooden Leg," "Shake That Wooden Leg, Dolly Oh," "Give the Fiddler a Dram," "Arkansaw Traveler," and "The Unfortunate Pup." And say, brothers, those old long-horned Texas steers actually enjoyed that old time music. I still have the old music box which I used to play in those care-free, happy days.
My last drive up the trail was in 1875, after which I quit the trail, but never quit the cow-punching job until many years later. Sweet is the memory of the old bygone days. Many of the old trail boys have passed over the Divide, and it will not be long until we, too, will pass out, to give our places to those coming on. My associates on the trail, as I recall them now, were Emory Hall,