19149
19149
19149
com
https://ebookname.com/product/wireless-multimedia-
communications-convergence-dsp-qos-and-security-1st-edition-
k-r-rao/
OR CLICK BUTTON
DOWNLOAD EBOOK
https://ebookname.com/product/wireless-communications-1st-edition-bin-
tian/
ebookname.com
https://ebookname.com/product/cooperative-wireless-communications-1st-
edition-yan-zhang/
ebookname.com
https://ebookname.com/product/wireless-communications-1st-edition-t-l-
singal/
ebookname.com
https://ebookname.com/product/negotiating-climate-change-in-
crisis-1st-edition-steffen-bohm/
ebookname.com
How Does Analysis Cure Heinz Kohut
https://ebookname.com/product/how-does-analysis-cure-heinz-kohut/
ebookname.com
https://ebookname.com/product/earthly-bodies-magical-selves-
contemporary-pagans-and-the-search-for-community-1st-edition-sarah-m-
pike/
ebookname.com
https://ebookname.com/product/body-structures-and-functions-13th-
edition-ann-senisi-scott/
ebookname.com
https://ebookname.com/product/american-wheels-chinese-roads-1st-
edition-michael-j-dunne/
ebookname.com
https://ebookname.com/product/model-rebels-the-rise-and-fall-of-china-
s-richest-village-1st-edition-bruce-gilley/
ebookname.com
Small Animal Dermatology A Color Atlas and Therapeutic
Guide 3rd Edition Keith A. Hnilica
https://ebookname.com/product/small-animal-dermatology-a-color-atlas-
and-therapeutic-guide-3rd-edition-keith-a-hnilica/
ebookname.com
Wireless
Multimedia
Communications
Convergence,
DSP, QoS, and
Security
K.R. Rao
Zoran S. Bojkovic
Dragorad A. Milovanovic
This book contains information obtained from authentic and highly regarded sources. Reasonable
efforts have been made to publish reliable data and information, but the author and publisher can-
not assume responsibility for the validity of all materials or the consequences of their use. The
authors and publishers have attempted to trace the copyright holders of all material reproduced
in this publication and apologize to copyright holders if permission to publish in this form has not
been obtained. If any copyright material has not been acknowledged please write and let us know so
we may rectify in any future reprint.
Except as permitted under U.S. Copyright Law, no part of this book may be reprinted, reproduced,
transmitted, or utilized in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or
hereafter invented, including photocopying, microfilming, and recording, or in any information
storage or retrieval system, without written permission from the publishers.
For permission to photocopy or use material electronically from this work, please access www.copy-
right.com (http://www.copyright.com/) or contact the Copyright Clearance Center, Inc. (CCC), 222
Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 01923, 978-750-8400. CCC is a not-for-profit organization that pro-
vides licenses and registration for a variety of users. For organizations that have been granted a
photocopy license by the CCC, a separate system of payment has been arranged.
Trademark Notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and
are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe.
Visit the Taylor & Francis Web site at
http://www.taylorandfrancis.com
and the CRC Press Web site at
http://www.crcpress.com
BOOK OBJECTIVES
Anyone who seeks to learn the core wireless multimedia communication technolo-
gies, concerning convergence, QoS, and security, will need this book. The practicing
engineer or researcher working in the area of wireless multimedia communication is
forced to own a number of different texts and journals to ensure satisfactory cover-
age of the essential ideas and techniques of the field. Our first objective for the book
is to be the source of information on important topics in wireless multimedia com-
munications, including the standardization process. Another of the book’s objec-
tives is to provide a distillation from the extensive literature of the central ideas and
primary methods of analysis, design, and implementation of wireless multimedia
communications systems. The book also points the reader to the primary reference
sources that give details of design and analysis methods.
xi
Finally, the purpose of the book is not only to familiarize the reader with this
field, but also to provide the underlying theory, concepts, and principles related to
the power and practical utility of the topics.
xv
xvii
CHAPTER VII
THE HORRELL-HIGGINS FEUD
By the end of the year 1876 the Indians had been pretty well pushed
back off the frontier, so that there were very few fights with the
redskins after 1877. From the spring of 1877 onward the rangers
were transformed into what might properly be called mounted state
police, and accordingly turned their attention to ridding the frontier
of the outlaws that infested nearly every part of Texas. During the
winter of 1876-77 Captain Neal Coldwell broke up a band of thieves
that was operating in the northwestern part of Atascosa County. I
remember helping him capture a man named Wolf. He was wanted
for murder, and we made several scouts after him before we
succeeded in landing him safely in irons.
In April, 1877, Major Jones reached Coldwell's company and at once
made arrangements to march up the line on a visit of inspection.
When the major reached the headwaters of the South Llano River he
halted his escort and detailed several small scouting parties of five or
six men, each with orders to arrest every man that could not give a
good account of himself. One scout was sent down the South Llano,
a second down Johnson's Fork, while a third was ordered over the
divide with instructions to hit the head of the North Llano and sweep
down that river,—all three parties to rejoin Major Jones and the main
escort near where Junction City now stands. In these outlaw raids
some fifty or sixty men were arrested and brought in. Many of the
suspects were released upon examination, but I remember one
scout brought in two escaped convicts who had been captured up on
Copperas Creek. We bagged several men wanted for murder and
some horse and cattle thieves. Old Kimble County never had such a
clean-up of bandits in her history.
Neal Coldwell
While these prisoners were being held in camp other scouts were
sent out in the northern part of the county with orders to sweep
Bear Creek, Gentry, Red Creek, Big and Little Saline, to cross the San
Saba River in Menard County and sweep up that stream from old
Peg Leg Station to Menard. Many more suspects were caught in this
haul.
With a party of scouts I was detailed on a mission to Fort McKavett,
at that time one of the big military posts on the frontier. Many hard
characters and gamblers gathered about these posts to fleece the
soldiers out of their easy-made money. We made several arrests
here, and camped for noon one mile below the government post on
the San Saba River. During the dinner hour my horse, a gray, in lying
down to wallow, rolled on some broken beer bottles and cut his back
so badly that he was unfit for use for some time. When the escort
moved north I was left with old Company "D" until the return of
Company "A" on its return march some six weeks later. I thereby
missed some of the exciting scouts that took place on the march
north.
When Major Jones reached Coleman City he found orders from
Governor Coke to send a scout of rangers to Lampasas County to
help the civil authorities suppress a war known as the Horrell-
Higgins feud. Second Sergeant N.O. Reynolds was detached from
Company "A" and with ten men ordered to proceed to Lampasas and
report to the sheriff of that county.
After leaving Coleman, Major Jones visited the northernmost ranger
company and began his return march. This was to be his last trip
with his escort, for immediately upon his return to Austin he was
commissioned Adjutant-General of Texas. As there was no longer a
major of the battalion, there was no need of an escort, so old
Company "A" took its place on the line as a stationary company.
Captain Neal Coldwell was ultimately made quartermaster of the
battalion, and I believe ranked as major.
I was picked up at Company "D" by the escort on their return march
and was with Company "A" when it was made a stationary command
and located in Frio County.
In the latter part of 1877—during the late summer—a party of
filibusters under command of a Mexican general named Winkler
assembled in Maverick County, near Eagle Pass, and prepared to
invade Mexico. Captain Coldwell, then commanding Company "A,"
was ordered to the Rio Grande to break up the expedition. This he
did by arresting more than fifty participants. I was with him on this
expedition and saw much border service during this summer.
I remember a scout I was called upon to make with Captain Coldwell
over in Bandera County. The captain took with him John Parker,
Hawk Roberts, and myself. In one week's time we caught some ten
or twelve fugitives from justice and literally filled the little old jail at
Bandera. Captain Coldwell detailed Hawk Roberts and myself to
capture an especially bad man wanted in Burnet County for murder.
The captain warned us to take no chances with this man—that
meant to kill him if he hesitated about surrendering. I can't
remember this murderer's name at this late date, but I recall
perfectly the details of his capture. Sheriff Jack Hamilton of Bandera
County sent a guide to show us where this fugitive lived. The guide
led us some fifteen miles northwest of Bandera and finally pointed
out the house in which the murderer was supposed to be. He then
refused to go any farther, saying he did not want any of this man's
game, for the fellow had just stood off a deputy sheriff and made
him hike it back to Bandera.
It was almost night when we reached the house, so Roberts and I
decided to wait until morning before attempting the arrest. We
staked our horses, lay down on our saddle blankets without supper,
and slept soundly till dawn. As soon as it was daylight we rode over
near the house, dismounted, slipped up, and, unannounced, stepped
right inside the room. The man we wanted was sleeping on a pallet
with a big white-handled .45 near his head. Hawk Roberts kicked the
pistol out of the man's reach. The noise awakened the sleeper and
he opened his eyes to find himself looking into the business ends of
two Winchesters held within a foot of his head. Of course he
surrendered without fight. His wife, who was sleeping in a bed in the
same room, jumped out of it and heaped all kinds of abuse on us for
entering her home without ceremony. She was especially bitter
against Sheriff Hamilton, who, she said, had promised to notify her
husband when he was wanted so he could come in and give himself
up. She indignantly advised her husband to give old Sheriff Hamilton
a d—d good whipping the first chance he had.
While Company "A" was rounding up outlaws along the border,
Sergeant Reynolds was covering himself with glory in the north.
Upon reaching Lampasas and reporting to the sheriff as ordered by
Major Jones, the sergeant was told that the Horrell boys were living
on the Sulphur Fork of the Lampasas River and were defying the
authorities to arrest them.
The Horrells were native Texans and had been raised on the frontier.
These brothers, of which five were involved in the feud (the sixth,
John Horrell, had been killed at Las Cruces, New Mexico, previously)
were expert riders, and, having grown up with firearms in their
hands, were as quick as chained lightning with either Winchester or
pistol. Sam Horrell, the eldest, was married and had a large family of
children. He was a farmer and lived a quiet life over on the
Lampasas River. The other four boys, Mart, Tom, Merritt, and Ben,
were all cattlemen. They stood well in the community, but were
considered dangerous when aroused.
At this time Lampasas was a frontier town and wide open as far as
saloons and gambling were concerned. The Horrells, like most
cattlemen of the period, loved to congregate in town, go to the
saloons and have a good time, perhaps drink too much and
sometimes at night shoot up the town for fun, as they termed it.
Some of the more pious and more settled citizens of the town did
not approve of these night brawls, and called upon Governor
Edmund J. Davis, Provisional Governor in 1873, to give them
protection. Governor Davis had formed in Texas a State Police.
Naturally they were rank Republicans, and many of them were
termed carpetbaggers. This body was never popular in Texas,
especially as many of the force were negroes.
In answer to the call of the citizens, Governor Davis dispatched
Captain Williams with three white men and one negro to Lampasas.
On the way up Captain Williams met several freighters going to
Austin and stopped one of them, Tedford Bean, to ask the distance
to Lampasas. The captain had been drinking, and he told Mr. Bean
he was going to town to clean up those damn Horrell boys.
The little squad of police reached Lampasas about 3 p.m., hitched its
horses to some live oak trees on the public plaza, left the negro to
guard them, and then made a bee line to Jerry Scott's saloon on the
west side of the square. Mart, Tom, and Merritt Horrell, with some
ten or fifteen cow men, were in the saloon drinking, playing billiards
and having a good time generally. One man was picking a banjo and
another playing a fiddle. Captain Williams, an exceedingly brave but
unwise man, took in the situation at a glance as he walked up to the
bar and called for drinks.
He turned to Bill Bowen, a brother-in-law to Merritt Horrell, and said,
"I believe you have a six-shooter. I arrest you."
"Bill, you have done nothing and need not be arrested if you don't
want to," interrupted Mart Horrell.
Like a flash of lightning Captain Williams pulled his pistol and fired
on Mart Horrell, wounding him badly. The Horrell boys drew their
guns and began to fight. Captain Williams and one of his men, Dr.
Daniels, were shot down in the saloon. William Cherry was killed just
outside the door, and Andrew Melville was fatally wounded as he
was trying to escape. He reached the old Huling Hotel, where he
died later. At the first crack of a pistol the negro police mounted his
horse and made a John Gilpin ride for Austin. Thus, within the
twinkling of an eye, four state police were killed and only one of the
Horrells wounded.
Tom and Merritt Horrell carried the wounded Mart to their mother's
home, some two hundred yards from Scott's saloon, then mounted
their horses and rode away. Great excitement prevailed in the town.
The state militia was called out, and Governor Davis hurried other
state police to Lampasas. They scoured the country for the Horrell
boys, but to no avail.
Mart Horrell and Jerry Scott were arrested and carried to
Georgetown, Williamson County, and placed in jail. Mart Horrell's
wife went to the jail to nurse her husband and, of course, kept her
brothers-in-law informed as to Mart's condition. As soon as he was
well the Horrell boys made up a party and rode to Williamson County
and assaulted the jail at night. The citizens and officers of
Georgetown, taken unawares, put up a stiff fight, but the Horrells
had ten or fifteen well organized and armed men with them. They
took stations at all approaches to the jail and kept up a steady fire
with their Winchesters at anyone who showed up to oppose them.
Mr. A.S. Fisher, a prominent lawyer of the town, took an active hand
in the fight and was badly wounded. Bill Bowen was slightly hurt
while battering in the jail door with a sledge hammer. Mart Horrell
and Jerry Scott were liberated and rode off with their rescuers.
By the next evening the Horrells were back on Lucies Creek. They at
once made arrangements to leave the country and go to New
Mexico. They had gathered about them Bill and Tom Bowen, John
Dixon, Ben Turner, and six or eight other men as desperate and
dangerous as themselves. They were so formidable that they no
longer attempted to hide but openly and without hindrance gathered
their cattle, sold the remnant to Cooksey and Clayton to be delivered
to them in Coleman County. They even notified the sheriff of
Lampasas County just what day they would pass with their herd
through Russell Gap, but they were not molested.
As a cowboy I had worked for Cooksey and Clayton, and was with
them when they delivered cattle to the Horrell boys on Home Creek,
Coleman County. I had dinner in camp with the outlaws and they
made no effort to hide from the authorities. I remember they sat
about their camps with Winchesters across their laps.
When all was ready the Horrells moved slowly out of the country
with their families and cattle and finally reached New Mexico,
settling on the head of the Hondo River in Lincoln County. They had
not been at their new home many months before Ben Horrell was
shot and killed at a fandango near old Fort Stanton. Ben's brothers
at once repaired to the dance hall and killed eight Mexicans and one
woman.
This brought on a war between the Horrell boys and the Mexican
population along the Hondo River, and it is said that in the fights
that followed thirty or forty Mexicans were killed between Fort
Stanton and Roswell. In one of those pitched battles Ben Turner was
killed. Turner was prominent in all of the fights staged by the
Horrells, was with them when Captain Williams was killed and was
one of the assaulting party on the Georgetown jail. His death was
keenly felt by his companions.
Having now outlawed themselves in New Mexico, the Horrells could
no longer stay in that country. They turned back to Texas, and next
year showed up at their old haunts in Lampasas County. The shock
of the Civil War was beginning to subside and the State of Texas was
then under civil government with a Democratic governor in office.
The friends of the Horrells advised them to surrender to the
authorities and be tried for the killing of Captain Williams and his
men. They were assured a fair trial by the best citizens of Lampasas
County. Accordingly, the Horrells gave up, and upon trial were
acquitted of the charges against them.
The Horrells had not long been at ease before Merritt, the youngest
of the brothers, was accused by Pink Higgins of unlawfully handling
his cattle. Shortly afterward, while Merritt was seated unarmed in a
chair in the old Jerry Scott saloon, Pink Higgins stepped to the back
door of the place and shot him to death. Thus Merritt met his death
in the same saloon where four years before he had been a party to
the killing of Captain Williams. At this time Mart and Tom Horrell
were living down on Sulphur Fork of Lampasas River. The news of
their brother's death was quickly carried to them. They armed
themselves and started in a run for Lampasas.
This move had been anticipated by the Pink Higgins party. They
waylaid the Horrell boys outside the town and at their first fire killed
Tom Horrell's horse and badly wounded Mart. Tom advanced single
handed on the attackers and put them to flight. He then partly
supported and partly carried his brother to the home of Mr. Tinnins,
a neighbor, where a doctor was hurried to the wounded man.
Thus old Lampasas County was again the scene of war with Mart,
Tom and Sam Horrell, Bill and Tom Bowen, John Dixon and Bill
Crabtree on one side and Pink Higgins, Bob Mitchell and their friends
on the other. These two factions met in the town of Lampasas and a
furious battle followed. A man was killed on each side and the
population greatly endangered. Hence the governor's order to Major
Jones to send rangers to the aid of the officers at Lampasas.
When Sergeant N.O. Reynolds reported to the sheriff of Lampasas
he was informed that the Horrell boys were living ten miles east of
Lampasas and had ten or twelve desperate men with them, so that
it meant certain death to anyone making an attempt to capture
them.
"But, Mr. Sheriff, I am sent here to effect the capture of all offenders
against the law, and it is my duty to at least make the attempt,"
replied the brave Reynolds.
"These men have never been arrested," declared Sheriff Sweet, "and
it is my honest opinion they cannot be."
Reynolds then asked if the sheriff would send a guide to show him
where the Horrells lived. The rangers under the intrepid Reynolds
left Lampasas late in the night and finally the guide pointed at a
flickering light about a mile off.
"There is where the Horrell boys live. I am going back to town," he
said.
When asked if he would not accompany the rangers to the house,
the guide replied, "No, not for a million dollars!"
With that he turned his horse and rode away.
Reynolds thought it would be best to wait until daylight before
attempting the arrest. He planned to surprise the outlaws, if such a
thing were possible, but if the rangers were discovered and an
engagement came on they were to fight to the last man. As soon as
dawn broke the rangers wended their way on foot to the Horrell
brothers' ranch. It was a moment of great anxiety as they
approached the house, but not a sound was heard, not a dog
barked.
Sergeant Reynolds and his men tiptoed right into the room in which
the Horrells were sleeping. Some of the men were on pallets on the
floor, while others slept in beds in the one big room. Each ranger
pointed a cocked Winchester at the head of a sleeper. Reynolds then
spoke to Mart Horrell. At the sound of his voice every man sat up in
bed and found himself looking into the muzzle of a gun. The
sergeant quickly explained that he was a ranger and had come to
arrest them. Mart replied they could not surrender, and Tom Horrell
said it would be better to die fighting than to be mobbed.
This gave Reynolds his cue. He warned the outlaws that if anything
was started there would be a dozen dead men in that house in one
minute and advised them to listen to what he had to say. He then
guaranteed the Horrells upon his honor that he would not turn them
over to the sheriff to be put in jail and mobbed, but promised he
would guard them in his camp until they could secure a preliminary
examination and give bond.
"Boys, this seems reasonable," said Mart Horrell, rising to his feet. "I
believe these rangers can be relied upon to protect us. Besides this
fight has been thrust upon us. If we can get a hearing we can give
bond."
They all agreed finally to this proposition of Sergeant Reynolds and
laid down their arms, mounted their horses and under guard of the
rangers were marched into the town of Lampasas.
The news of the capture of the Horrells spread like wildfire through
the town and county. Hundreds of people flocked to Lampasas to
see Sergeant Reynolds, the man that had accomplished the
impossible in rounding up the most desperate band of men that ever
lived. The news was rushed to Austin, and General Jones himself
hurried to the scene. This act of Sergeant Reynolds covered him with
glory and brought to his name imperishable renown. He was at once
commissioned First Lieutenant, commanding Company "E."
The Horrell boys were admitted to bond after a preliminary hearing.
After their release Mart Horrell came to Lieutenant Reynolds and
feelingly thanked him for carrying out his promise. With tears
streaming down his face he grasped the lieutenant's hand and said,
"You are undoubtedly the bravest man in the world today." These
unfortunate men were later shot to death in the Meridian jail. The
Higgins and Mitchell parties surrendered to the authorities. Pink
Higgins was tried and acquitted of the murder of Merritt Horrell. This
ended the feud, but it started Lieutenant Reynolds on a new and
important phase of his career as a ranger.
CHAPTER VIII
SERVICE WITH REYNOLDS, THE INTREPID
As soon as Sergeant Reynolds was commissioned first lieutenant he
was placed in command of Company "E," then stationed in Coleman
County, but immediately ordered to Lampasas. At this time Captain
Sparks resigned the command of Company "C," and this company
was also ordered to report to Lieutenant Reynolds at the same town.
Late in August the two commands went into camp at Hancock
Springs. Major Jones then authorized Lieutenant Reynolds to pick
such men as he desired from these two companies for his own
company and either discharge or transfer the remainder to other
commands. No other officer in the battalion, I believe, was ever
accorded this privilege.
Lieutenant Reynolds had a week or ten days in which to make his
selection, so he studied the muster rolls of the companies carefully.
He had ranged under such great captains as Perry, D.W. Roberts,
Neal Coldwell, and with Major Jones himself. He knew what qualities
were needed in a good ranger and made his selections accordingly.
From old Company "A" Reynolds selected C.L. Nevill, Tom Gillespie,
Shape Rodgers, Jack Martin, John Gibbs, W.T. Clements, and four
others whose names I do not now remember. These were the scouts
that had helped him capture the Horrells and naturally were his first
choice. From Company "E" came Dick Ware, who one year later
killed the noted train robber, Sam Bass, then served Mitchell County
as its first sheriff for many years, and finally became United States
marshal for the Western District of Texas under President Cleveland's
administration. Henry Thomas, Miller Mourland, George Arnett, and
other Company "E" boys were selected. Henry Maltimore, Ben and
Dock Carter, Bill Derrick, Chris Connor, Henry McGee, Abe Anglin,
J.W. Warren, Dave Ligon, Lowe Hughes, George (Hog) Hughes, and
others were picked from Company "C."
N.O. Reynolds
When he had exhausted the two companies Reynolds turned to
General Jones and said, "There is a ranger down on the Rio Grande
in Neal Coldwell's company that I want."
"Who is it?" asked the general.
"Private Jim Gillett."
"You shall have him," promised General Jones. "I will send an order
to Captain Coldwell tonight to have Gillett report to you here."
It was late in the evening when Company "A's" mail came in from
Frio Town, but Captain Coldwell sent for me as soon as General
Jones' order arrived, and told me that I must leave the company
next morning and report to the Adjutant-General at Austin. I was
nonplussed, for I did not know what the order meant. Out on the
frontier where we then were operating we seldom read newspapers
or heard what the other companies were doing, so I did not even
know that Reynolds had captured the Horrell boys and had been
commissioned to command Company "E." The following morning I
bade Captain Coldwell and the Company "A" boys goodbye and
started on my long ride to Austin.
As I jogged along I asked myself many hundred times why I was
ordered to report at Austin, and, boy-like, it made me nervous and
uneasy. It took me two days to reach San Antonio and three more to
get to Austin. I arrived in the latter town just at nightfall, but I was
at the Adjutant-General's office as soon as it was opened next
morning.
Presently General Jones entered with some officers of the State
Militia. He shook hands with me and invited me to be seated, saying
he had some business to attend to for the moment. It was probably
an hour before the officers left and the general could turn to me. He
very kindly inquired as to my trip and asked about Captain Coldwell
and the company. He then told me about the arrest of the Horrell
boys and Sergeant Reynolds' commission as first lieutenant
commanding Company "E," vice Lieutenant Foster resigned. He
explained Reynolds had requested that I be attached to his
command, and ordered me to report to my new commander in
Lampasas without delay.
I excused myself at once and lost no time in getting my horse out of
the livery stable and resuming my way. A great load was lifted from
my mind, and I was about as happy as a boy could be. I sang and
whistled all the way to Liberty Hill, thirty miles from Austin. The
following day about 2 p.m. I rode into Reynolds' camp at Hancock
Springs.
I attracted some attention as I rode in, for I wore a big Mexican hat
mounted with silver, a buckskin jacket fringed from shoulder to
elbow with a bunch of flowers braided in highly colored silk on its
back. On my heels were enormous Mexican spurs. I never saw a
ranger sent to the Rio Grande for the first time that did not rig
himself out in some such outlandish attire, only to discard it a few
weeks later, never to wear it again. I was no exception, and I think
every man in camp tried on my hat.
Lieutenant Reynolds selected C.L. Nevill for first sergeant, Henry W.
McGee as second sergeant, and J.W. Warren and L.W. Conner, first
and second corporals, respectively. On September 1, 1877, the
company was sworn in. The new command was the most formidable
body of men I had ever seen. Our commander, Lieutenant Reynolds,
was over six feet tall and weighed probably one hundred and
seventy-five pounds. He was a very handsome man, a perfect blond,
with steel blue eyes and a long, light moustache. At that time he
was about thirty years of age, vigorous in mind and body, and had a
massive determination to succeed as a ranger. His mind was original,
bold, profound and quick, with a will that no obstacle could daunt.
He was the best ranger in the world—there was never another like
him. The lieutenant was a native of Missouri, and was always known
as "Major" or "Mage" Reynolds. It was said that Reynolds, though a
mere boy, had served with the Confederates in the latter part of the
Civil War. He was one of a party that captured a troop of Federal
cavalry, the major of which was well supplied with clothing. The
captors, however, were very scantily clad and Reynolds appropriated
the major's uniform, hence his nick-name "Mage." In later years
when I had grown more intimate with him and was probably closer
to him than any other I mentioned this story. He neither affirmed
nor denied it, declaring he was a Missourian by birth, a bootmaker
by trade, and that his early history could interest no one.
First Sergeant Nevill was six feet and one inch in height and weighed
one hundred and eighty-five pounds. All the non-commissioned
officers were at least six feet tall and built in proportion, and many
of the privates were from five feet eleven inches to six feet in height.
I was probably the lightest man in the company, being only five feet
nine inches and weighing but one hundred and forty pounds.
When the company's roster was complete Lieutenant Reynolds had
but twenty-eight men,—lacking two of his full complement of thirty.
The company was then ordered to Austin, but before being assigned
to its position on the frontier the lieutenant enlisted John and Will
Bannister, two celebrated frontiersmen. They were old cowboys,
splendid shots, and well acquainted with every part of Kimble,
Menard, Mason, and Kerr Counties, in which Company "E" was
destined to operate. In appearance and ability this company
compared favorably with any thirty rangers ever sent to the Texas
frontier. Nearly every member of the company had had more or less
experience as an officer, and all were exceedingly fine marksmen.
Sergeant Henry McGee had been marshal of Waco and had figured
in several pistol duels in that city. Dave Ligon, the oldest man in the
command, had been a Confederate soldier and had served with
General Forrest's cavalry.
In the summer of 1877, Lieutenant Armstrong of Captain Hall's
company, assisted by Detective Jack Duncan of Dallas, Texas,
captured the notorious John Wesley Hardin. It has been said that
Texas, the largest state in the Union, has never produced a real
world's champion at anything. Surely, such critics overlooked Hardin,
the champion desperado of the world. His life is too well known in
Texas for me to go into detail, but, according to his own story, which
I have before me, he killed no fewer than twenty-seven men, the
last being Charley Webb, deputy sheriff of Brown County, Texas. So
notorious had Hardin become that the State of Texas offered $4000
reward for his capture. Hardin had left Texas and at the time of his
capture was in Florida. His captors arrested and overpowered him
while he was sitting in a passenger coach.
In September, 1877, Sheriff Wilson of Comanche County, in whose
jurisdiction Hardin had killed Webb, came to Austin to convey the
prisoner to Comanche for trial. Wilson requested the governor for an
escort of rangers. Lieutenant Reynolds' company, being in Austin at
the time, was ordered to accompany Wilson and protect Hardin from
mob violence. This was the first work assigned Company "E" under
its new commander.
The day we left Austin between one and two thousand people
gathered about the Travis County jail to see this notorious
desperado. The rangers were drawn up just outside the jail, and
Henry Thomas and myself were ordered to enter the prison and
escort Hardin out. Heavily shackled and handcuffed, the prisoner
walked very slowly between us. The boy that had sold fish on the
streets of Austin was now guarding the most desperate criminal in
Texas; it was glory enough for me.
At his trial Hardin was convicted and sentenced to twenty-five years
in the penitentiary. He appealed his case and was returned to Travis
County for safekeeping. The verdict of the trial court was sustained,
and one year later, in September, 1878, Lieutenant Reynolds'
company was ordered to take Hardin back to Comanche County for
sentence. There was no railroad at Comanche at that time, so a
detachment of rangers, myself among them, escorted Hardin to the
penitentiary. There were ten or twelve indictments still pending
against him for murder in various counties, but they were never
prosecuted.
Hardin served seventeen years on his sentence, and while in prison
studied law. Governor Hogg pardoned him in 1894 and restored him
to full citizenship.
In transmitting him the governor's pardon, Judge W.S. Fly, Associate
Justice of the Court of Appeals, wrote Hardin as follows:
Dear Sir: Enclosed I send you a full pardon from the Governor
of Texas. I congratulate you on its reception and trust that it is
the day of dawn of a bright and peaceful future. There is time
to retrieve a lost past. Turn your back upon it with all its
suffering and sorrow and fix your eyes upon the future with the
determination to make yourself an honorable and useful
member of society. The hand of every true man will be
extended to assist you in your upward course, and I trust that
the name of Hardin will in the future be associated with the
performance of deeds that will ennoble his family and be a
blessing to humanity.
Did you ever read Victor Hugo's masterpiece, "Les Miserables"?
If not, you ought to read it. It paints in graphic words the life of
one who had tasted the bitterest dregs of life's cup, but in his
Christian manhood rose about it, almost like a god and left
behind him a path luminous with good deeds.
With the best wishes for your welfare and happiness, I am,
Yours very truly,
W.S. Fly.
Despite all the kind advice given him by eminent lawyers and
citizens, Hardin was unequal to the task of becoming a useful man.
He practiced law for a time in Gonzales, then drifted away to El
Paso, where he began drinking and gambling. On August 19, 1895,
Hardin was standing at a bar shaking dice when John Selman,
constable of Precinct No. 1, approached him from behind and,
placing a pistol to the back of Hardin's head, blew his brains out.
Though posing as an officer Selman was himself an outlaw and a
murderer of the worst kind. He killed Hardin for the notoriety it
would bring him and nothing more.
After delivering Hardin to the sheriff of Travis County in 1877,
Lieutenant Reynolds was ordered to Kimble County for duty. Of all
the counties in Texas at that time Kimble was the most popular with
outlaws and criminals, for it was situated south of Menard County on
the North and South Llano Rivers, with cedar, pecan and mesquite
timber in which to hide, while the streams and mountains furnished
abundance of fish and game for subsistence.
Up on the South Llano lived old Jimmie Dublin. He had a large family
of children, most of them grown. The eldest of his boys, Dick, or
Richard, as he was known, and a friend, Ace Lankford, killed two
men at a country store in Lankford's Cove, Coryell County, Texas.
The state offered $500 for the arrest of Dublin and the County of
Coryell an additional $200. To escape capture Dick and his
companion fled west into Kimble County. While I was working as
cowboy with Joe Franks in the fall of 1873 I became acquainted with
the two murderers, for they attached themselves to our outfit. They
were always armed and constantly on the watchout for fear of
arrest. Dublin was a large man, stout, dark complected, and looked
more like the bully of a prize ring than the cowman he was. I often
heard him say he would never surrender. While cow hunting with us
he discovered that the naturally brushy and tangled county of Kimble
would offer shelter for such as he, and persuaded his father to move
out into that county.
Dublin had not lived long in Kimble County before another son, Dell
Dublin, killed Jim Williams, a neighbor. Thus two of the Dublin boys
were on the dodge charged with murder. They were supposed to be
hiding near their father's home. Bill Allison, Starke Reynolds and a
number of bandits, horse and cattle thieves and murderers, were
known to be in Kimble County, so Lieutenant Reynolds was sent with
his company to clean them up.
It was late in October, 1877, before the company reached its
destination and camped on the North Llano River below the mouth
of Bear Greek. As soon as our horses had rested and camp was fully
established for the winter we began scouting. Several men wanted
on minor charges were captured. We then raided Luke Stone's
ranch, which was about ten miles from our camp, and captured Dell
Dublin. He was fearfully angry when he found escape impossible. He
tore his shirt bosom open and dared the rangers to shoot him. While
he was being disarmed his elder brother, Dick, rode out of the brush
and came within gun shot of the ranch before he discovered the
presence of the rangers. He turned his horse quickly and made his
escape, though the rangers pursued him some distance. When Dick
learned that the Banister boys and myself were with Lieutenant
Reynolds' company and hot on his trail he declared he would whip
us with a quirt as a man would a dog if he ever came upon us, for
he remembered us as beardless boys with the Joe Franks' cow outfit.
However, despite his threat, he never attempted to make it good,
but took very good care to keep out of our way until the fatal
January 18, 1878.
There was no jail in Kimble County, so with a detachment of rangers
I took Dell Dublin and our other prisoners to Llano County lockup.
Shortly afterward Reynolds selected Sergeant McGee, Tom Gillespie,
Dick Harrison, and Tim McCarthy and made a scout into Menard
County. He also had with him his negro cook, George, to drive his
light wagon. On the return toward Bear Creek the scout camped for
the night at Fort McKavett. At that time each frontier post had its
chihuahua or scab town, a little settlement with gambling halls,
saloons, etc., to catch the soldiers' dollars. At Fort McKavett were
many discharged soldiers, some of them negroes from the Tenth
Cavalry. These blacks had associated with white gamblers and lewd
women until they thought themselves the equals of white men, and
became mean and overbearing.
On this particular night these negro ex-soldiers gave a dance in scab
town, and our negro, George, wanted to go. He was a light mulatto,
almost white, but well thought of by all the boys in the company. He
obtained Lieutenant Reynolds' permission to attend the dance, and
borrowed Tim McCarthy's pistol to carry to it. When George arrived
at the dance hall the ex-soldiers did not like his appearance, as he
was allied with the rangers, whom they despised. They jumped on
George, took his pistol and kicked him out of the place. The boys
were all in bed when George returned and told McCarthy that the
negroes at the dance hall had taken his pistol from him.
Lieutenant Reynolds was sleeping nearby and heard what George
said. He raised up on his elbow and ordered Sergeant McGee to go
with McCarthy and George and get the pistol. The negroes saw
McGee coming and, closing the door, defied him to enter the dance
hall.
McGee was cool and careful. He advised the negroes to return the
pistol, but they refused, saying they would kill the first white-livered
s— o— b— that attempted to enter the house. The sergeant then
stationed himself at the front door, ordered McCarthy to guard the
back entrance of the place, and sent George for the lieutenant.
Reynolds hurried to the scene, taking with him Tom Gillespie and
Dick Harrison. The lieutenant knocked on the door and told the
blacks he was the commander of the rangers and demanded their
surrender. They replied with an oath that they would not do so.
Reynolds then ordered the house cleared of women and gave the
negroes just five minutes in which to surrender.
Up to this time the women had been quiet, but they now began to
scream. This probably demoralized the negro men. One of them
poked McCarthy's pistol, muzzle foremost, out of a window.
"Here, come get your d—n pistol," he said.
McCarthy, a new man in the service, stepped up and grasped it. The
instant the negro felt the touch of McCarthy's hand on the weapon
he pulled the trigger. The ball pierced McCarthy's body just above
the heart, giving him a mortal wound.
At the crack of the pistol the rangers opened fire through the doors
and windows on the negroes within the house. Reynolds and his
men then charged the place, and when the smoke of battle cleared
they found four dead negro men and a little negro girl that had been
killed by accident. Only one black escaped. He was hidden under a
bed, and as the rangers came in, made a dash to safety under cover
of darkness. McCarthy died the following day and was buried near
old Fort McKavett. Negro George fought like a tiger and won the
boys' praise.
A few days afterward the sheriff of Tom Green County, following the
trail of a bunch of stolen cattle from San Angelo, came into our
camp. Lieutenant Reynolds sent Sergeant Nevill and a scout of
rangers with the sheriff. The trail led over to the South Llano, where
the cattle were recovered. While scouting around the herd, Sergeant
Nevill discovered a man riding down the trail toward him. He and his
men secreted themselves and awaited the stranger's approach. It
was getting quite dark, and when the newcomer had ridden almost
over the concealed rangers without noticing their presence they rose
up, presented their guns and ordered him to halt.
"Yes,—like hell!" he exclaimed, and, turning his horse, dived into a
cedar brake. A shower of bullets followed, but failed to strike the
fugitive. This was the notorious Dick Dublin with a $700 reward on
his head.
Sergeant Nevill returned to camp with about fifty head of burnt
cattle, but let the most notorious criminal in the county escape.
Lieutenant Reynolds was disappointed at this, and said he did not
understand how four crack rangers could let a man ride right over
them and then get away. He declared his negro cook could have
killed Dublin had he been in their place. This mortified the boys a
great deal.
The latter part of December, 1877, Lieutenant Reynolds sent a scout
out on Little Saline, Menard County. On Christmas day this detail had
a running fight with four men. John Collins, the man who stole a
yoke of oxen at Fredericksburg and drove them up to within two
miles of our camp, was captured, as was also John Gray, wanted for
murder in one of the eastern counties. Jim Pope Mason, charged
with the murder of Rance Moore, was in this skirmish, but escaped.
One cold morning about the middle of January Corporal Gillett, with
Privates John and Will Banister, Tom Gillespie, Dave Ligon, and Ben
Carter, was ordered on a five days' scout. We saddled our horses
and packed two mules. When all was ready I walked over to
Lieutenant Reynolds. He was sitting on a camp stool before his tent
and seemed in a brown study. I saluted and asked for orders.
"Well, Corporal," he said, after a moment's hesitation, "it is a scout
after Dick Dublin again. That man seems to be a regular Jonah to
this company. He lives only ten miles from here and I have been
awfully disappointed at not being able to effect his capture. It is a
reflection on all of Company 'E.' There is one thing sure if I can't
capture him I will make life miserable for him. I will keep a scout in
the field after him constantly."
I then asked if he had any instructions as to the route I should
travel.
"No, no," he replied. "I rely too much on your judgment to hamper
you with orders. After you are once out of sight of camp you know
these mountains and trails better than I do. Just go and do your
best. If you come in contact with him don't let him get away."
After riding a half mile from camp the boys began inquiring where
we were going and who we were after. I told them Dick Dublin. We
quit the road and traveled south from our camp over to the head of
Pack Saddle Creek. Here we turned down the creek and rounded up
the Potter ranch, but no one was at home, so we passed on into the
cedar brake without having been seen.
On the extreme headwaters of South Llano River some cattlemen
had built a large stock pen and were using it to confine wild cattle.
This was far out beyond any settlement and probably fifty or sixty
miles from our camp. I thought it possible that Dick Dublin might be
hanging around the place, so we traveled through the woods most
of the way to it. Here I found that the cattlemen had moved.
The scout had now been out two days, so we began our return
journey. We traveled probably twenty-five miles on the third day. On
the fourth day I timed myself to reach the Potter ranch about night.
Old man Potter, a friend and neighbor of Dublin's, lived here with
two grown sons. It was known that Dublin frequented the place, and
I hoped to catch him here unawares. About sundown we were within
a mile of the ranch. Here we unsaddled our horses and prepared to
round up the house. If we met with no success we were to camp
there for the night. I left John Banister and Ligon to guard camp
while Gillespie, Will Banister, and Ben Carter, with myself,
approached the ranch on foot. If I found no one there I intended to
return to our camp unseen and round up the ranch again the
following morning.
We had not traveled far before we discovered a lone man riding
slowly down the trail to the Potter ranch. We remained hidden and
were able to approach within fifty yards of the house without being
seen. We now halted in the bed of a creek for a short consultation.
The one-room cabin had only a single door, and before it was a small
wagon. The Potters cooked out of doors between the house and the
wagon. We could see a horse tied to the south side of the vehicle,
but could not see the camp fire for the wagon and the horse. To our
right and about twenty-five steps away old man Potter and one of
his sons were unloading some hogs from a wagon into a pen.
We knew the moment we left the creek bed we would be in full view
of the Potters and the ranch house. We decided, then, that we
would advance on the house as fast as we could run and so be in
good position to capture the man who had ridden into the camp. We
rose from the creek running. Old man Potter discovered us as we
came in view and yelled, "Run, Dick, run! Here comes the rangers!"
We then knew the man we wanted was at the camp. We were so
close upon Dublin that he had no time to mount his horse or get his
gun, so he made a run for the brush. I was within twenty-five yards
of him when he came from behind the wagon, running as fast as a
big man could. I ordered him to halt and surrender, but he had
heard that call too many times and kept going. Holding my
Winchester carbine in my right hand I fired a shot directly at him as
I ran. In a moment he was out of sight.
I hurried to the place where he was last seen and spied him running
up a little ravine. I stopped, drew a bead on him, and again ordered
him to halt. As he ran, Dublin threw his hand back under his coat as
though he were attempting to draw a pistol. I fired. My bullet struck
the fugitive in the small of the back just over the right hip bone and
passed out near his right collarbone. It killed him instantly. He was
bending over as he ran, and this caused the unusual course of my
ball.
The boys, whom I had outrun, now joined me, and Carter fired two
shots at Dublin after he was down. I ordered him to desist as the
man was dead. I examined the body to make sure it was Dublin, for
I knew him intimately, as I had cow hunted with him before I
became a ranger. We found him unarmed, but he had a belt of
cartridges around his waist. He was so completely surprised by our
sudden appearance he could do nothing but run. The $700 reward
on him could never be collected, as it was offered for his arrest and
conviction. Dublin's brothers, Role and Dell, swore vengeance
against myself and the Banister boys, but nothing ever came of the
oath.
In the month of February, 1878, Lieutenant Reynolds started to
Austin with five prisoners we had captured in Kimble and Menard
Counties. They were chained together in pairs, John Stephens, the
odd man, was shackled by himself. As guard for these prisoners
Reynolds had detailed Will and John Banister, Dave Ligon, Ben
Garter, Dick Ware, and myself.
On the Junction City and Mason road, some ten miles east of our
camp, was the small ranch of Starke Reynolds, a fugitive from
justice, charged with horse stealing and assault to kill. Company "E"
had scouted for him in Kimble County and had rounded up his ranch
many times. We knew he was in the county, but he always managed
to escape us. As we passed this ranch, Lieutenant Reynolds, Privates
Ware, Carter, Ligon, and myself were marching in front, with a four-
mule wagon following us, in which were the chained prisoners.
Behind it came the Banisters, who were on guard that day and
detailed to keep a constant watch on the captive outlaws.
We passed the Starke Reynolds' home about 10 o'clock in the
morning, and Lieutenant Reynolds remarked that it was hardly worth
while to round up the house as he had done so many times in the
past without result, but that he would surely like to capture the
fellow. We had not ridden more than half a mile beyond the ranch
when we came face to face with Starke himself. He was a small man
and riding an exceedingly good brown pony. We were about four
hundred yards apart and discovered each other at the same instant.
The outlaw was carrying a small sack of flour in front of him. He
immediately threw this down, turned his horse quickly and made a
lightning dash for the Llano bottoms, some three miles away.
At that point the Junction City and Mason road winds along a range
of high mountains with the country sloping downward to the Llano
River. This grade was studded with scrubby live oak and mesquite
brush not thick enough to hide a man but sufficiently dense to retard
his flight through it. We gave chase at once and for a mile and a half
it was the fastest race I ever saw the rangers run. We were closely
bunched the entire distance, with Lieutenant Reynolds—he was
riding a fast race horse—always slightly in the lead. He finally got
close enough to the fugitive to demand his surrender. Starke only
waved his gun defiantly and redoubled his speed. Lieutenant
Reynolds then drew his six-shooter and began firing at the outlaw.
After emptying his pistol he began using his Winchester.
The Llano bottoms were now looming right up in front of us. The
race had been fast enough to run every horse into a big limber.
Carter, Ware, and Ligon dropped out of the race. Up to this time I
had contented myself by trying to keep up with Lieutenant Reynolds,
for it is always easier to follow a man through the brush than to run
in the lead. I had a good grip on my bridle reins and was trying to
steady my pony as best I could. I now saw that the outlaw was
beginning to gain on us. I ran up beside the lieutenant and said, "He
is getting away from us. Must I go after him?"
Lieutenant Reynolds turned and looked at me with the wildest look
on his face that I ever saw. His hat was gone, his face was badly
scratched by the brush with the blood running down over his white
shirt bosom.
"Yes, G— d—n him; stop or kill him!"
I changed the bridle reins to my left hand, drew my gun with my
right and, digging my spurs deep into my pony's side, I was out of
sight of the lieutenant in three hundred yards. The fugitive saw that
I was alone and that I was going to overhaul him. He suddenly
brought his pony to a standstill, jumped down, took shelter behind
the animal and drew a bead on me with his gun.
"G— d—n you, stop, or I'll kill you!" he cried.
I tried to obey his order, but my pony was running down hill and ran
straight at him for twenty-five yards more before I could stop. I
jumped down from my horse and made ready to fight, but Starke
broke for a thicket on foot. As soon as he ran out from behind his
pony I fired at him. The bullet must have come rather close to him,
for he turned quickly and took shelter behind his mount again. As he
peeped over his saddle at me I attempted to draw a bead on his
head, but I was tired, nervous and unsteady. Before I could shoot
Dave Ligon galloped right up to the outlaw, ordered him to
surrender and drop his gun, which Starke did at once. The boys had
heard me shoot and in five minutes were all upon the scene.
The captive was searched and ordered to remount his pony. With
one of the boys leading Starke's mount we started back to the
wagon, nearly three miles away. As soon as the outlaw was a
prisoner and knew he would not be harmed no matter what he said,
he began a tirade against the rangers. He declared the whole
battalion was a set of d—d murderers, especially Company "E," and
said it was curbstone talk in Menard, Mason and Kimble Counties
that Lieutenant Reynolds' men would kill a man and then yell for him