Sheriff Tucker

by Laszlo Endrody

  I got Liz, Buck, little Liz and little David; they all wanted to go and see what this place looked like. I figured that we could build here, and we could have a nice ranch for raising horses and cattle. We crossed back to the trail. I pointed to the north towards the cedar and said, “There are our fence posts. We will have to bring in lumber and bricks.”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  The first thing Mark and I did was homestead on both sides of the San Rafael River. We got some papers for Dad to sign with a section. I spent three days with Liz and David, then Liz and the girls went home. Little Liz wanted to stay, but I asked her to go back so she could attend school.

  After they left, we got the tools and went back to cut fence posts for a corral. We went after poles, but we had to go a long way with no wagon, so we had to drag them. We could drag six at a time. We shot deer for meat and we brought the other food stuff on the buckboard. We brought enough boards to build us a shack close to the river. We went after poles for five days and ended up with 30 poles. We built a small corral that could be added to later. Slowly, we took our horses out there and we hobbled them.

  I went in to town to send some wires home and asked for my wagon to be loaded with things we needed. The wagon came two weeks later and I took it out to the ranch with four horses. I wired a list of lumber that we needed for a two-room house that could be added to, along with two doors and two windows. It also came two weeks later. There was no problem getting anything.

  Liz wired stating that both mares had their colts. I figured that the mares and colts could stay for a while, along with the two thoroughbreds; Moses took good care of them. Liz said that Jeff was going west soon because Mark needed him out there. I figured that was good, he could homestead along with Mary and Vicky; they were my partners anyway.

  I got Buck 320 acres to homestead, and I signed it for him. Mark said that his surveyor could mark the sections for us, so we would know where our property ended. He had a German workman that was a good builder and he could help us build our houses. I told Mark that I would like to his builder so that he could give me a list of everything that we would need. Mark already picked the spot where a new station would be built, and his builder oversaw that. The new station would be two miles to the east of us. He was also building a four-room house where he could live and run things.

  Mark got us the title to two sections of railroad land, which were the government sections between the two that I homesteaded to my dad. Buck had his 320 acres south from my dad, and Mark and I had our 640 acres south from the two railroad sections.

  We were busy building our corrals when four men rode in. They wanted to know who we were and what we were doing in Utah. I told one of the men, who called himself Bishop Taylor, that we were with the railroad and we were going to settle here. He wanted to know who our bishop was, and I told him that I was.

  “Are you appointed by Salt Lake?” he asked.

  “We are not Mormons,” I stated.

  “Well, then you cannot settle here. Only Mormons are allowed to settle here,” he stated.

  “This is United States territory and we are citizens of the U.S. We are homesteading here, and we are going to stay.”

  “I cannot permit that.”

  “I don’t care what you do and do not permit,” I argued.

  “If you are not out of here you will be shot,” the bishop threatened.

  “Start shooting then, if you think this would be a better place than your cemetery. Get the hell out of here and don’t come back. These three thousand acres are ours.”

  “We have been catching wild horses out here for years,” said one of the other men. “They come right through here.”

  “I need about thirty nice young mares,” I said. “Too bad you men want to shoot instead of being friendly.”

  The same man that said he was catching horses rode in to our place later that day leading two young mares. He assured me that he had left his gun in his saddlebag.

  “Well in that case, have a cup of coffee with me,” I offered.

  He had two nice mares; one was a bay and the other was a pinto with big white patches.

  “Nice mares,” I said.

  “They are for sale.”

  “Well, let’s have that cup of coffee first then you can tell me how much.”

  “They are broke to lead. I caught these two when the herd was going north this spring. They will be coming south soon. I wanted to warn you about that too. You must have your horses in a corral and hobbled, or you can lose them to the wild herd. There are about three hundred in the herd. I want to know how to homestead a piece of land south of you,” he stated.

  “That’s easy,” I told him.

  We had our coffee and then I asked him how much he wanted for the horses; he told me 20 each. I got two 20’s in gold out and handed them over to him. He told me to brand them, as well as the rest of my horses. Buck stood up and shot. He went out and picked up a rabbit. He just palmed his gun and shot so fast without aiming.

  “Where did you learn to shoot like that?” the man asked him.

  “I learned that from him,” Buck said, pointing to me.

  “I had a feeling when we were here that we could get hurt. It is in my Indian blood,” said the man. “I am part Ute. That is why I will need some help homesteading; they know me and I have an Indian squaw, and they don’t want me around.”

  “Is your wife a Ute?” I asked.

  “No, she is from up north in Wyoming. She is Pawnee. I was catching some good horses up there, but it is much better here. I usually get some young studs and I geld them and break them. I get thirty dollars each for them.”

  “We can go and homestead some ground for you any time you want. We actually have a surveyor coming out and he can mark your property for you too. You will have three years to prove up; you must have water and a house and corrals with animals. You’ll have to get some cows branded to you; and horses of course. We can help you with the house,” I assured him.

  “I can get cows from the Utes,” he said.

  I grabbed my notebook and asked for his name, it was James Fox. After he left, I got Mary Tucker, Vicky McGregor, and Jeff McGregor, as well as Buck Belden’s 320 acres each next to mine and Mark’s sections. I drew it in on a piece of paper, along with the 640 acres for James Fox. We needed the surveyor to draw in the exact locations, all of them right next to the river.

  When the surveyor came out, he drew everything out on a big sheet and marked all of the sections and filled in all of the homesteading papers and took them home.

  I gave James his paper and told him to put it away in a safe place. He had his wife with him and she did not speak very good English; Buck started speaking in Pawnee and that woman was surprised. She wanted to know all about us and Buck explained that I had been with the Pawnees and had a Pawnee squaw who was killed in Texas. He told her, “We were attacked by some Kiowas and they killed her. She was very nice, and we miss her a lot. I am Pawnee and so is my little sister; Chief Iron Hand put her in school.”

  The minute I heard Chief Iron Hand in Pawnee I knew that he was telling her about me.

  My wagon arrived, loaded with all the items I asked for. I had to go and pick it up with four geldings. A flatcar came with the lumber and Jeff. Mark needed him. He brought four wagons and his horses in a boxcar. The first job he had was to bring the lumber out to my place. Our German builder, along with four of his men, built me a big barn with a room inside where Buck and I stayed. Now we could unload my wagon and go after posts and poles to build corrals.

  I bought four young heifers from the Utes and branded them. Soon after the wild horses came and filled our valley. James was busy; he brought four mares with colts to me and I hobbled them all in my corral. All of my horses were in the corral. The wild herd was there for three weeks and then they slowly moved south. James went with them, catching you
ng studs. He had eight when he let the rest go. He then worked the eight. Every 30 dollars was like a month’s pay.

  I had the builder start on Jeff’s house first. While they worked on his house, I jumped on the train and went home. I had a list of things that we needed for my house and I shipped a big load of lumber on a flatcar. Little Liz wanted to go back with me, but big Liz finally convinced her that school was very important. She told her that she would be coming to see me soon and she would bring her along.

  I got on the passenger train and two days later I was home on the ranch. James was working the wild herd with his brother. He got me another young mare with a colt. He had to go quite far now to get to the herd. His wife was very happy with the house. He had to get firewood for them and I also needed firewood, so we went together and loaded my wagon; a load for him and a load for me. His brother wanted to know if he could also homestead. I told him that he could homestead right next to James. His brother lived with the Utes and would come to work with James. James’s wife cooked for them and they worked with the horses.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  Real trouble rode in. The bishop, along with five men, went to James’s place and shot him while James’s brother was away. The bishop told James’s wife to get out of the house. She walked over to our place and told us what had happened. Jeff was unloading things from his wagon and I told him to come with us, we had to go and take care of that bishop. We put up James’s wife and rode over to their house. The bishop came out of the house and told us to get off his land. I told him the land belonged to James and his wife. He said that the land, all 2,000 acres, was registered to him and that was his place. Then he did something very stupid, he pulled out a gun. Buck shot him low through his belly. He fell, and three women came out of the house and ran to him trying to stop the bleeding.

  A man that was looking over the horses rode in on James’s horse. He wanted to know what happened. Instead I asked him whose buckboard was parked, and he said it belonged to the bishop. I told him to take his saddle off the horse and put it on the buckboard and to get two of the bishop’s horses and hitch them up; they were all leaving.

  “This place belongs to the bishop,” he claimed.

  “Just do what I tell you,” I said. “You are going to take the bishop and these ladies back to wherever they come from.”

  James’s brother came riding in and we told him that James was dead and that the bishop had killed him.

  “Where is his body?” he asked.

  “Ask that fellow hitching up to that buckboard. He was riding your brother’s horse,” I said.

  “Where is Betty?” he asked.

  “She walked over to tell us that they kicked her out. The bishop moved his wives into the house, but I am moving them back out. This house belongs to Betty.”

  James’s brother, Dave, wanted to know where his brother was. The bishop’s helper said they dragged him in a ditch west of here. After the buckboard was ready, Dave got on and went to get his brother. He found him and brought him back. He took him out of the wagon. He was in terrible shape after being dragged. Three men came riding in and wanted to know where the bishop was. They wanted to buy his horses.

  “The horses belong to Betty Fox and Dave,” I said. “The bishop is a thief.”

  Dave went after Betty to bring her home and the three horse buyers left. I told the ladies that they were going home, wherever that was. We loaded the bishop’s body on the wagon; he was dead.

  When Dave returned with Betty, we buried James. I had Betty check on everything in the wagon to make sure none of her things were stolen, and then I told the man to get his wagon out of here. Betty cried a lot and then settled down. Dave moved in with her and there were no problems. Dave worked with the horses and sold some so they had money to buy things.

  My house went up and it was a very nice five room house. When the wife and little Liz came out to visit, they loved everything they saw. They brought two mares with their colts and two thoroughbreds. We gave Moses the room in the barn. We still had to get a stove for it so he could heat it. He was happy. His job was to take care of my horses. Liz made a long list of items that we needed in the new house.

  Slowly, I was breaking in my mares to pull my buckboard. We cut a lot of hay and filled the barn. Liz brought my old dog with her and he was happy; he just wanted his ears scratched. Liz’s new couch was his favorite place. When he was not on the couch, he was following me around. He also loved little David.

  I went after more posts and poles to build more corrals and took the family with me. I got Dave to go with us and he brought Betty along. Little Liz just loved speaking in Pawnee to her. Dave suggested hiring some Ute boys to help build corrals, and I told him to get me a couple. He did, and they were good workers. I paid them one dollar a day, same wages whites were getting paid. They liked that.

  Liz went home after six days and took the two kids with her. I promised to visit them again soon. She wanted to know if I would sell the farm. She told me that the Jensen’s would like to buy it and would make payments.

  “You are the director in this family, you can decide about these things,” I said. I told her how much I paid for it.

  Later, Liz sent a wire telling me that she decided to sell the farm. In the wire she also told me that she was pregnant. I wired back that I hoped it was a little girl. I figured it was safer for her to have a baby there instead of constantly traveling; I could do the traveling.

  I got four more heifers from the Utes and a small bull that looked really good. Slowly, I started in to the cattle business. With Moses there, I was looking in to getting a milk cow; Moses had milked before. Maybe the grocer would know where I could pick one up, one with a nice calf. I went in to town to take care of Dave’s homesteading. I went to the store and started buying things. He had corn meal for sale, so I bought three sacks and three sacks of flour. I needed bacon, so I got six slabs and two hams. I asked him who had milk cows and he said he could get me one. It took him an hour to get the cow with a week-old calf and it cost me 18 dollars. We loaded the calf on the buckboard and the cow in the back. I got four sacks of cracked corn and tied up the calf and we slowly started for home.

  When we got home, Moses took the cow in the barn with the calf; it would stay there for a while. Moses could let her out to graze after a while. The calf was a nice bull calf and we would probably turn him into a steer.

  I took a sack of flour and a sack of cornmeal, along with two slabs of bacon and a ham over to Dave and Betty, they thanked me. I told Dave that he got 320 acres south of their 640, he was happy. I told him that he had to prove up on it and would have to build a small cabin and some corrals. He said that he understood.

  I went to build a hay rack for my wagon. It was time to cut hay again. I figured that I would use the Utes to help again. I could not do much with my hook, besides drive the wagon. We cut about 15 acres of tall grass and let it dry and made a stack of hay close to the corrals. Dave wanted to hay over at his place and needed the wagon. I drove for him too, and Moses came along and raked with Betty. Buck shot another buffalo while we were haying and distributed the meat. Everybody was eating well. After haying, we went back to building corrals. We had some colts that needed to be weaned off and they needed a home.

  Liz sent all kinds of furnishings for the house that I had to pick up. It was all going in the house. I would wire her and she would wire back, it was a lot faster than waiting for a letter.

  Buffalo was getting very scarce now, so Buck had to shoot elk and deer. He always distributed the meat Indian style. Buck let the Utes take some meat home and that made us a lot of friends. The Utes knew that Buck was a Pawnee, same as Betty, and they knew that it was the bishop who killed James and that Buck then killed the bishop. He was respected by the Utes.

  I rode in to town at least once a week to send a wire to Liz. When I went in this time, I went to the store to get four sl
abs of bacon; I had the packhorse with me. I got the bacon wrapped and I put it in the pack. A young fellow rode up on a nice black gelding and came in to the store. He needed ammunition for a Sharps .45. The grocer gave him two boxes and the young man paid for it. He went out of the store and a sheriff was looking at his horse. I followed him out of the store and heard the sheriff telling him that he needed his horse.

  “I raised that horse, it belongs to me,” the young man told him.

  “Not anymore. I am taking this horse,” the sheriff demanded.

  “What gives you the right to help yourself to other people’s property?” I asked the sheriff.

  “Stay out of this buster,” he retorted. “He is an Indian, he has no rights.”

  “A peaceful Indian has the same rights as you do,” I defended. “And your job is to see that he has those rights.”

  “You son of a bitch, I told you to stay out of this,” he pulled his gun and I shot him in the right arm. He dropped his gun and went to his knees.

  There was a man on the sidewalk who said, “Sheriff, you are fired.”

  The young fellow came up to me and thanked me for saving his horse. I told him that he had better brand his horse soon, and he agreed. The man who told the sheriff he was fired came up and introduced himself as Major Wilson. I gave him my name and he asked if I was interested in the sheriff’s job. I told him that I was not.

  “I am ranching west of here by the San Rafael River,” I said.

  The grocer came out and said that the boy never gave anybody any trouble. A deputy came by, and Wilson told him to take Mr. Glore to the doctor.