Aug. 81, 1895.] 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



181 



AFTER TURKEYS IN THE CHOCTAW 

 NATION. 



In the very early morning of a day in last December our 

 car was coupled on to a southbound train at Parsons, 

 Kan. , and we began the run to our point of departure 

 from the railroad in the Choctaw Nation. We were a 

 jolly party, drawn together by a feeling of good fellow- 

 ship as well as by the love of hunting, and we kn6w that 

 all kinds of good times were before us. Most of our num- 

 ber had hunted in the Indian Territory in former years, 

 and some of us had come from far beyond the Mississippi 

 for this last hunt in that land of lawlessness. 



We had boarded the car late the night before, but it was 

 not yet light when we tumbled out of our blankets and 

 gathered in a group to look at the country through which 

 we were passing. Then, after the manner all hunters 

 know so well, the talk flitted gayly about — banter that re- 



only. Here our car was switched on to the old Choctaw 

 Coal road and pulled east through the coal region to the 

 'Frisco road. We began to feel that at last our campaign 

 was about to commence, and rifles were taken from their 

 cases, cartridge belts were filled, hunting knives were 

 whetted, and we talked more earnestly of what should 

 be done when we struck the trail at Talihina. A two 

 hours' wait at Wister Junction for a train on the 'Frisco 

 gave us time to pick up a few quail on the rolling prairi* 

 near the railway. Then a south-bound local picked us 

 up and we headed for Talihina, where we were to leave 

 the railway and start across country for the mountains. 

 The character of the region changed as the miles slipped 

 away under us. It was new country to us all, even to 

 the two Indians whom we had brought down with the 

 hounds. Until almost evening we climbed up a grade 

 winding between low mountains that suggested portions 

 of the Alleghany range, and the sun had set before our 



OUR CAMP. 



called hunts of the past, plans that promised well for the 

 future, discussions of the merits of various calibers, and 

 the hundred other things that concern the sportsman. 

 "We were so occupied when the Blackstone siding was 

 reached, and one of the party who was on the train that 

 was robbed there the month before told the story of the 

 "hold up." Muscogee, a few miles below, is a breakfast 

 station, and our hunting-coated party invaded the dinine- 

 room to get the last meal we were to have from a real 

 kitchen for many a day. One may find more peaceful 

 places than the little town of Muscogee, but the eleven 

 deputy U. S. marshals who were patrolling its streets with 

 their Winchesters had a decidedly quieting effect upon 

 the disorderly element. At that time the Bill Cook gang 



CHOCTAW INDIAN AND "POOP. WHITE" FROM ARKANSAS. 



of outlaws was engaged in its wildest depredations, and 

 some of the residents were nervously apprehensive that 

 they might raid the town. 



Then southward again to South McAlister, a town that 

 presents many of the features of the Western mining 

 camp. It is a little city of wooden buildings with un- 

 paved streets and sidewalks of every grade. Two laws 

 are rigidly enforced there — one against selling liquor and 

 one prohibiting the carrying of firearms. At night 

 especially it has a mushroom, temporary, unsettled ap- 

 pearance, with its ill-lighted, irregular streets and its 

 crowds of restless men wandering aimlessly about. It is 

 essentially a town of men; one might almost say of men 



car was left on the siding at Talihina. In the failing 

 light we scurried out to get a glimpse of the town. It is 

 not a pretty place, and it has not even the merit of clean- 

 liness to recommend it, but in spite of all it has an atmos- 

 phere that is attractive in a way to a man from the 

 "States." Not a bit of gay color lightens the scene. The 

 prevailing tone is a dark slate color, even the earth has this 

 tinge, and many of the inhabitants have the alert, death- 

 suggesting air of the well-trained funeral director. They 

 did not receive us cordially, or at least those only did 

 who expected to participate in reducing our financial 

 resources. We left no friends in Talihina, but it was 

 through no fault of ours. That night we stayed on the 

 car and several of the citizens spent the evening in parad- 

 ing up and down the track and commenting upon us. 

 They may be good shots — we did not know — but they are 

 not well grounded in the rules of etiquette. The town is 

 neither large, quiet nor religious, and there is as much 

 lawless entertainment per capita there as in any locality 

 in the country. If the accident insurance rate is not 

 high in Talihina it should be. Perhaps the most sincere 

 spirit of good will to one's fellow men does not prevail, 

 but the universal custom of carrying firearms has engen- 

 dered some respect for the rights and feelings of others. 

 This, however, is not allowed to prevent the free use of 

 these weapons. 



Shortly after sunrise we transferred our camp kit and 

 provisions to wagons and loaded another with baled hay 

 for the horses. In an hour we were on the march across 

 the somewhat broken prairie under the guidance of two 

 r sident Indians. To the left lay the Winding Stair Mount- 

 ains, far down to the right were the mountains of the 

 Seven Devils, and behind us in the distance were the San 

 Bois Mountains. Dead ahead, but not yet in sight, was 

 our destination in the Kiamichi Mountains. At noon we 

 stopped on the bank of a small stream, and just as the 

 coffee began to boil a sharp-featured, brisk little man 

 galloped up on a black horse, and the following conversa- 

 tion ensued with the leader of our party : 



"Is your name Don?" 



"Yes." 



"You're leadin' this outfit?" 

 "Yes." 



"I'm a United States Marshal and I'm after one of your 

 party." 



There are many annoying contingencies in fife and ar- 

 rest is not the least of them. We were disturbed, though 

 innocent of wrongdoing. Further questioning, however, 

 showed th at it was one of our teamsters whom the law 

 desired. We promptly admitted the marshal's greater 

 right to the man and parted company, we keeping his 

 team. Later developments caused us to think that the 

 heavily armed gentleman might have arrested two of our 

 teamsters without taking an innocent man. Before we 

 were under way again a second deputy marshal rode in 

 from another direction with an illicit distiller in custody. 

 Perhaps these evidences of the power of the law should 

 have been reassuring to us; nevertheless we felt that there 

 was yet something to be desired in the way of peace and 

 quiet. 



All day we followed the Polk county road toward Ar- 

 kansas and at night camped in a bit of heavy timber near 

 a small creek. It was a hurriedly made camp, but a pic- 

 turesque one. The big cedar logs of our fire made a 

 brilliant circle of light in the surrounding gloom and 

 shone brightly on the faces that clustered round and_on 

 the white tent and wagon tops. A camp on a prairie 

 usually seems lonely and often cheerless; a camp in the 

 mountains is sometimes almost oppressive with its sense 

 of awe, and the gayest camp one can make is that in a 

 heavily timbered country where great trees confine the 



firelight in a narrow space and throw it back upon the 

 campers. Such was our bivouac that night. 



At ten o'clock the next morning we forded the Kiamichi 

 River and headed southeast to our camp ground. We 

 had intended to go up into the Kiamichi Mountains, but 

 found only one place where even a packhorse could 

 ascend. To take the wagons up was out of the question, 

 and so we pitched our tents in a grove of white oaks at 

 the mountains' base, near a little stream that came tum- 

 bling down a ravine. The first half day we spent in learn- 

 ing the country. It presented a great diversity of kind; 

 along the river were the prairies of the bottom land; then 

 low hills covered here and there with cedar and oak trees; 

 behind them rose the first long unbroken ridge of .the 

 mountains. There was joy in the camp when the first 

 turkey was brought in; there was greater joy the day 

 following when three more were hung up in a tree beside 

 the cook-tent. We kicked a bit each time one of them 

 disappeared to reappear on the table, but the cook always 

 laughed and did it again the next day. We wanted to 

 make a big show of game when we marched out of 

 the wilderness; he was determined to feed us well if it 

 took all we could shoot, and possibly our remonstrances 

 were not altogether sincere. In spite of our appetites the 

 game bag grew until when we broke camp thirty-two 

 turkeys were hanging on ropes stretched from tree to tree 

 and three deer were slung from the branches, while 

 several fox skins that were to make rugs for far-away 

 homes decorated neighboring saplings. We hunted 

 bear with considerable persistence; we had the 

 hounds out after deer; but our only good luck 

 was with the turkeys. Not even a glimpse of a bear did 

 we get, only two bleached skulls, from which we took the 

 teeth to keep as souvenirs of the hunt. Now and then 

 we stumbled on things that surprised and interested us 

 and set our imaginations to building stories on the sug- 

 gestions they offered. One such was a little "shack" in a 

 valley near the foot of the mountains at a spot where the 

 trampled ground and the quantity of manure showed 

 that horse thieves had been wont to corral their stolen 

 stock there. Perhaps, too, it had been a stopping place 

 for the itinerant and hard hunted whisky peddler, the 

 curse of the Indian nation. At another place nearer the 

 river we found an old slab of stone telling that in that 

 corner of the wilderness lay the body of a member of the 

 Indian Council. It may be he had desired to be buried in 

 a country as wild and primitive as that of his forefathers. 

 If so, his wish had been fulfilled. 



Breaking camp is often a mixed pleasure, and so it was 

 as we moved out of the "Kimish." A part of our camp 

 kit had been sent on the day before, and thus lightened 

 we made the railroad in one day. Talihina did hot wel- 

 come us, and we did not stay long there, but loaded our 

 traps and coupled on to the first north-bound train. The 

 last act of one of our party before leaving Talihina was 

 to tear down and take away from a wall of the railroad 

 station a handbill reading as follows: 



83,500 REWARD. 



By authority of the Attorney General of the United States I hereby 

 offer a reward of $250 each for the bodips of the following named out- 

 laws, delivered to me, the reward payable on special approval of 

 court. Deputy U. S. Marshal cannot receive the reward. 



Names of outlaws: Bill Cook, Crawford Crosby, alias Cherokee Bill; 

 Buck Wightmau, alias Bitter Creek; Columbus Means, Skeeter, James 

 French, Sam Brown, Perry Brown, Thomas Quarles, Joe Jennings, 

 Charles Clifton, George Newton, Slaughter Kid, Bill Doolin. 



Reward to be accepted in full of all expenses so far as the Govern- 

 ment is concerned. G. J. Crump, U. S. Marshal. 



Oct. 27, 1894. 



This offer of reward by the Federal authorities gives a 

 hint of the condition of lawlessness prevalent in the terri- . 

 tory. In addition to the sum offered by the Government 



JACK ELLIS, DEPUTY U. S. MARSHAL. 



the express companies doing business in the Nation had 

 offered rewards for the men who had taken part in the 

 robberies in which they suffered. In some instances the 

 totals had run up to verv large sums. The various Indian 

 governments of the "Nation" are wholly unable or un- 

 willing to put a stop to the reign of disorder there, and 

 the territory is to-day the resort and asylum of desperate 

 criminals from the Alleghany Mountains to the Rockies. 

 The act of Congress, approved March 1, 1895, providing 

 for the establishment in the "Nation" of two additional 

 Federal courts and the appointment of their officers, may 

 aid in restoring quiet, but if it is not successful something 

 else must be tried. 



