Smythe, William H. Personal History
WILLIAM H. SMYTH
As we jog along down the trail to camp, I am going to spin you a story of a combination of characters, both of men and horses I knew 60 years ago. At that time the west was the melting pot for all kinds of characters, and they were brought together in sharing the hardship of frontier life, which often welded the saint and sinner into a lifetime comradeship.
Cattle and horses have the same traits as people, the same panics, the same distrusts and the same likes. If they have confidence in you they look to you in times of trouble. I have seen cattle and horse herds with heads up, wild eyed, a whirlpool of frantic flesh on the verge of a stampede, when the trail boss would ride slowly into the edge of the whirling mass of flesh and talk to them in a cool low voice. You could see the immediate effect on the whirlpool of horns and hoofs as they gradually slowed down. They had confidence in their boss.
I have been a roving cowhand in most of the western states.
I was born in Somers County, West Virginia, Feb. 14, 1886. My family moved to Wythe County, Virginia when I was three months old. My father died when I was 12 years old. Being the oldest boy in a family of five children, it fell my lot to help support the family. I started working in the iron mines as a water boy at the age of 12. I worked during the summer months and attended school during the winter.
I liked farming and stock of all kinds, but I was not interested in mining. Al though I was considered a top hand in the mines when I was 16 years of age, I didn't like it, so when my mother remarried, I decided to go west and try my luck. I first came to Harrionsville, Mo., and worked on a farm for a year. There I met a brother of M.W. Jones. He told me of his brother operating a cattle ranch in Wyoming, so in the spring of 1904 or 1905 I landed in Lusk. Demmon was carrying the mail, but not being acquainted with the departure of the mail wagon, I missed the first trip out after I landed.
I liked the west from the beginning. The people were strangers, but sociable. Men would holler across the street and ask me if I wanted a job. The people were even interested in a stray kid. I only weighed about 100 pounds. One big giant of a man said he knew Mert Jones and only lived 12 miles from Mert's ranch. He was going out next day with a freight wagon and said I could ride with him. He told me his name was Pete Sommers. The next morning early we were rattling north from Lusk and landed at the Hat Creek Store about noon. Andrew Falconer was postmaster of Hat Creek post office. At sundown we pulled in at Pete's ranch at the mouth of Sage Creek on Old Woman Creek. I spent the night with Pete. The next morning, I rode behind Pete across Old Woman Creek, and Pete turned me loose, telling me to follow the old trails until I could look down and see the cottonwood trees -- there I could see Mert's house for the road went straight to the house. The trails I was following were the old Texas - Montana cow trails. The creek that I first saw was Buck Creek. I probably am the only living man who came up the Texas Trail on foot.
It was the first day of April when I walked into Mert's house. Mert was as fine a man as ever lived - in fact, he was a father to me. I remember Pete Sommer's parting words when he was directing me to Mert's ranch; "Now, kid, you will find him and his family above the damned average." I was interested and he was an excellent teacher. He was one of the boys from the old school. There I met many of those noble characters who made the country safe for the honyokers. If I remember right, I came to Wyoming the spring after the Lightning Creek Battle with the Sioux Indians - The time sheriff Miller was killed. In 1906 I witnessed the Ute Indians round up the antelope in Little Thunder Basin.
I bought my first cattle in June of the same year. I bought 20 yearling heifers from Andrew Falconer. I was working for Mert and carried the mail from Warren to Taylorville, twice a week - made the round in a day on horseback.
In 1909, I worked for Charles Hitshew. He and Charles Bright ran a roundup wagon. That fall, after roundup was over, Sourdough Ike and I trapped. We were living in my cabin on Lance Creek. In 1910 I worked for J.M. Carey Cattle Co. until after the beef round up then looked after my own cattle on Lance Creek until spring. The year 1911 was spent with the Carey Cattle Co. until after beef works. That was my last year working out. I was kept busy looking after my own outfit.
The gray wolves were pretty bad and I spent the spring season denning for wolf pups.
When I first came to Mert Jones home his wife, Mrs. Lucy Jones was postmistress of the Warren Post Office. There was another post office about twenty miles north of Hat Creek named North View. Mrs. Solan Clark was postmistress.
Pete Sommers was a real pioneer of the old west. He as in his fifties and a very interesting companion. He said he was about six years old when his family left Missouri in a prairie schooner headed west. He was a fluent master of profane language, but he had heart of gold.
I cannot call myself a real pioneer but I received my early training from the real pioneers. Some were Mert Jones, George Lacy, E.H. Lindsy,
Clarence Sheldon. Ed Lindsy was the manager of the old S.G. the first ranch west
of the Black Hills at Dewey, South Dakota.
John B. Kendrick and Ed Lindsy wintered in the Rawhide Buttes the
year of 1879. In the spring of 1880 they trailed their herd 50 miles
north of Lusk and Lance Creek. Kendrick also established the O.W. ranch.
Kendrick was only 21 years old when he left Texas. He hewed logs for
the ranch house at the Ula ranch. He married Ula Wolfgen. I was told
there was a window pane that Mrs. Kendrick had inscribed the letters Ula
on, with a diamond, in the ranch house.
Ed Riley was an old trail man who trailed the first cattle north
after the civil war. He knew Wild Bill Hitchcock when he was at Dodge
One of my best friends was Fred Sullivan. He was a stage driver on
the Cheyenne - Deadwood Trail and had Wild Bill and Calamity Jane as
Maggie Carroll was a school teacher who helped me out by signing my note for $150.
This was an important thing for me because times were hard and money was all but impossible to borrow.
Sour Dough Ike, (James P. Baker), Ray DeGering and I landed
in what is Niobrara County at about the same time. When Ike rode up to
my cabin he was a welcome guest, as he said he would take over the
cooking. He had worked for Bill Pearson and he made sour dough second to
none. Sourdough got his nickname because of the sourdough bread he made
Mert Jones said I was built right to be a good wolf den swab. I could
wiggle my way into a den and save a lot of digging. I was lucky that
spring. I found a den at the mouth of Walker Creek that yielded 11 pups
and two old wolves. The state gave a bounty of five dollars per head
regardless of age. I was working alone so that was a financial help.
Joe Pettie was a range foreman. We were long time friends. He was a pioneer from the
ground up. His father was the first sheriff of Custer
County, South Dakota in the gold rush days, and knew Calamity Jane and
Wild Bill Hitchcock.
John Kendrick.was an example of a self made man. He was 21 years old
when he brought the trail herd into Wyoming. They wintered in the
Rawhide country. The spring of 1880 they moved over on Lance Creek where
he built a log house. The logs were pine. There was nothing but
cottonwood timber on Lance Creek.
Kendrick brought the best logs from Alum
Creek Hills, east of Old Woman Creek 10 miles east of the Lance Creek
building sight. He hewed the logs as they were dragged in. It took 30
days to complete the logs for the ranch house. Men who worked with
Kendrick said that he would stay up studying his lessons long into the
night after the rest of them were sleeping. I visited Kendrick several
times when he was in the Senate. That was many years later.
My homestead was only three-fourths of a mile from the site of his
ranch, The ULA. We.shared our experiences of blizzards, droughts, and
fighting the gray wolves. Kendrick was a pioneer, a cow man and a
statesman that any state would be proud of.
We had a nice winter and plenty of moisture the year of 1915. The
range was good and everyone had hay that fall. I bought 15 head of
yearling fillies from William Hogg, also a thoroughbred from Jim Hogg.
They had the best bred horses in that part of the country. They had been
using thoroughbred racers. "Goldie" had held the world's record for one
mile and one sixteenth. His mother was one of King Edward's derby
winners that had been shipped to this country for exhibit at the St.
Louis World Fair. I had in all, 20 or 25 mares with which I intended
raising cavalry horses. I and Houston Sowers were all fall gathering
and branding these fillies. They were scattered over most of eastern
Wyo. and western So. Dak.
The year of 1916 looked like a prosperous one. We again had plenty of
moisture. I had to go to Douglas on land business. There was a report
flashed around the country that we were on the verge of war with
Mexico. The headlines in the Denver Post in large letters was "Pancho
Villa and his raiders had dashed across the border at Columbus, a town
between New Mexico and Mexico and murdered several Americans."
Wyoming had called out her National Guard and was asking for
volunteers. I had no immediate family, so I decided to sign up. I just
had to straighten out my affairs. I was in a hurry to get home and sell
Chris Ruffing had asked me several times if I ever wanted to sell my
cattle he would give me a bid. He thought I had the best bunch of cattle
in the area. Chris had always been a good friend. I told him what I
wanted for them. I had 120 head with four purebred hereford bulls and 25
mares and one thoroughbred stud. This was the result of my 11 years of
hard work, but I felt it was my duty to serve my country in time of
trouble. Chris said he hated to see me sell my cattle after I had
worked so hard to build up a nice herd. It didn't take long to close the
deal. I was now a man without a cow. That's worse than a man without a
country. I met Ira Thomas who had been like a big brother to me since
I'd come to Wyoming. I could always go to him for good solid advice. He
was a top cow man. When I told him what I'd done, he didn't speak to me
for a few minutes. Then he said, "I hope you have done the right thing,
but I think you have made a hell of a mistake."
Shortly after I was in the 3rd Wyoming infantry. I had turned my
ranch over to Ray De Gering. He would care for my mares and run a bunch
of cattle for himself. I had all the haying equipment and work stock,
it looked like there would be a bumper hay crop.
He was glad to move on my ranch and I figured I couldn't find a better man.
I served in France. While stationed at Camp Green, N.C. my army
career came near ending. I was a victim of Spinal Meningitis I was
treated by Dr. Hart who made a world's record of not losing a meningitis
I was discharged March 8, 1919. I returned to my ranch and started up in the cow business the following year.
In 1928 we moved to Washington, D.C. where I worked in the Zoological Department of livestock and poultry.
In September 1945 I returned to my stomping grounds on Lance Creek
where I hope to remain on my homestead. The old timers have gone but I
cherish the memory of having once known and worked with them.
Mary Virginia Smyth Abell is known to be the first girl born on Lance
Creek in Wyoming. Her dad, William H. Smyth is credited with having
killed the last gray wolf in that area.
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|Obituary||Smyth, William (02/14/1886 - 09/14/1973)||View Record|