Waterbury Democrat., 1902-12-31
T he Last of Tonkavvas
By JOHN H. BATTERY.


 at Chfckasaw, where Tom Pepper, one of the old-time "drummers" - he's dead these six years--toid me what he knew, or rather, what he didn't know, about Baffin. It was in the old days before the government was half ready to open up the Kiowa and Comanchc country, and the few travelling men who got into the traders had to drive in by wagon. The Rock Island was sur veying, I think, but there wasn't a mile of road west of the Chickasaw line.
 The case that Pepper made out against Baffin came pretty near being the prize hard luck story, with Baf- fin as the victim. Baffin was a trader in those days, and might have pros pered if he were not everlastingly burning out" What struck me as singular was that, in spite of the nu- merous fires which followed his wan derings, Baffin never carried any in- surance, never whined over his losses, and never computed his debts. But fire was not the only cause of his mis- fortunes. Whenever he bought few cattle they would get string-halt or maimed on somebody's barb wire fence. If he put out a crop herd of ponies was sure to invade and de- stroy it. III luck, according to Pep per, seemed to follow Baffin, till every white man in the reservation except himself believed that the young trader had enemies among the Indians.
 However, as I was looking for trade, and had mind to prospect bit in the Wichita hills, put d.wn Baf- fms address, and set out on horseback for Cloudchief, near which Baffin was then running 8 small post. His place was about four miles up the dry fork of the Washita river. and there found him one March evening about an hour before sundown. In spite of the de- scriptions I'd had of him, was little surprised to find him such splendid looking fellow. He was sitting on a keg in front of his log house, smoking his pipe and gazing at me steadily as I came slowly out of the bare timber. When I got into the clearing he stood up, the shadow of a smile lowering across his swarthy face, and said: How do, sir. Won't you come in ?'' He was very tall, more than six feet, his hair and eyes were very black and brilliant; he wore thick, dark mus tache, and though the evening was cool, he was in his shirt sleeves. A true frontiersman, he said very little, though Ire was hospitality itself and seemed glad to hear mo talk. Pm quite sure that took great fancy to him from the start, and I think he liked me, because he finally lapsedIinto. an almost talkative mood and told me few Indian legends of extinct tribes which I cannot remember having heard anywhere else. I was going to bed before he asked me the rather singular question, Did you stop in any Comanche villages on your way up?" and when I said no, I thought he seemed rather relieved. We slept in the store that night, on a bale of coarse duck that made very good bed, and he on the counter with his head on 8 bundle of brown wrap ping paper. The only other occupant of the house was an old Indian squaw, very withered and very silent, who seemed to carry on the simple house. keeping pretty much as it suited her.
 l went away in the early morning, after agcoarse but wholesome break fast, and 8 rather cordial handshake from Bafin.. After three profitless days of prospecting I came back to find that the log house IF which I | had so lately been guest had been burned in my absence. Nothing but l few mounds of yet smoldering ashes marked the place. Bafin was gone, nor was there any trace of life at hand. In Cloudchief asked about him, but nobody knew more than that he had been burned out during the | night, and that he had bought cart i from some Wichita Indians and start ed for the Canadian river country. I met him twice after that at Taloga and once at Watronga, but though I we got along famously together, he railways evaded any questions about l his misfortunes. He had given up any idea of trading for the future, l and at that time showed extraorcii- l nary interest in mining told him all I knew, warning him of the pre- carious chance of finding any consid-
 erable mines in the Wichita, where I had so often failed, but advising him
 toAturn his attention to coal or oil, or
 even to asphalt, indications of which I had found in many accessible locali- ties.
 l He showed particularly keen in. terest In asphalt and it's possibilities listening with wide-eyed delight tc my description of its uses and values l in the big cities. Though he never
 told me till later, was already sure
 that he had never been in the states but he was so keen for information I so ambitious for work, so apt il l grasping ideas, that I never could
 make up my mind to believe that he had any Indian blood in him.
 l When left him that time his mind was fully made up to go prospecting for asphalt, and sorry as l felt foi
 him, I couldn't help but admire the
 splendid optimism which seemed t
 surmount all his strange ill luck ant
 lead him always on to new enter prises. I gave him two or three ad
 dresses, where letters might reacl
 me during the next year, and prom