The Bossier banner. [volume] (Bellevue, Bossier Parish, La.) 1859-1952, 1903-02-05
The st Of
theTonkawas
BY JOHN H. RAFrERY.

ITO BEGIN at the beginning, must
say that had very poor opinion
of Sylvester Baffin until met him. In
deed, heard of him quite accidentally
at Chickasaw, where Tom Pepper, one
of the oldtime ''drummers' = he's
dead these six years-told me what he
knew, or rather, what he didn't know,
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, think, but there wasn't 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 trader
in those days, and might have pros
pered if he were not everlastingly
'burnings 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
manned on somebody's barb wire
fence. Ii he put out crop a herd
of ponies was sure to invade and de-
stroy it. Ill 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 l was looking for
trade, and had mind to prospect bit
IN the Wichita hills, put down Baf-
ms address, and set out on horseback
for Cloudchief, near which Baffin was
then running 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
! came slowly out of the bare timber.
when | got into the clearing he stood
up, the shadow of smile lowering
across his swarthy face, and said:
How do, sir. Won't you come imp
lie was very tall, ,smore than six feet,
ms hair and eyes were very black and
prilllant; he wore thick, dark mus
taehe, and though the evening was
cool, he was in his shirt sleeves, A
true frontiersman, he said very little,
though be was hospitality itself and
seemed glad to hear me talk. I'm
quite sure that took a great fancy to
him from the start, and l think he
liked me, because he finally lapsed into
an almost talkative mood and told me
Few Indian legends Of extinct tribes
which | cannot remember having
heard anywhere else.
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 said no, I
thought he seemed rather relieved.
We slept in the store that night. I on
bale of coarse duck that made very
good bed, and he on the counter with
ms head on bundle of brown wrap-
ping paper. The only other occupant
OF the house was an old Indian suuaw,
very withered and very silent, who
seemed to carry on the simple house,
keeping pretty much as it suited her.
| went away in the early morning.
after coarse but wholesome break.
last, and rather cordial handshake
from Baffin. After three profitless
days of prospecting / came back to
find that the iog house in which 7
mad SO lately been guest had been
burned IN my absence. Nothing but
q few mounds of yet smoldering
ashes marked the place. Baffin was
gone, nor was there any trace OF life
at hand. In Cloudchief 1 asked about
him, but nobody knew more than that
he had been burned out during the
night, and that he had bought q cart
from some Wichita Indians and start
I'd for the Canadian river country. !