Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1909-07-20
Mistsllansulls asadins.
A MAGIC NAME.
An Episode In the Life of Buekskin
Sam

Sam.
L What has become Of Major Sam 8.
Hall, q prominent figure In the pion-
leer history Of the southwest, comman-
der Of celebrated company Of VOL
unteer Texas Rangers, and an Indian
Tighter Of the caliber Of Sam Houston
land Gen. Miles?
q This question was recently asked at
la small gathering Of literary folk in
Pasadena, but no one present could
furnish any reply of a positive char
Iacter.
Il A few years since, he was living
Somewhere in his native state Of Tex
las; no report Of his death has been
published, at least to the best of the
knowledge and recollection Of the COM
Ipany In question; and I am frank to
Estate that they would each like to
Know why and where this once widely
known maker of southwestern history
has dropped so completely out Of pub
lie notice.
Like Kit Carson, Phil Sheridan, and
a few other heroic names upon our
country's roll of honor, Maj. Hall
("Buckskin Sam',) was man Of small
stature, perhaps the smallest in the en-
tire list But in shrewd generalship
and daredevil bravery he loomed up
In large, commanding proportions.
Indeed, there was q time when the
name Of Buckskin Sam Hall was ter
ror and an omen to hostile Indians and
renegade whites from Wyoming to the
Mexican border.
Many amusing, as well as thrilling,
tales could be told Of the active days
of this big little commander Of frontier
heroes, for the rough life Of the early
mining towns and border settlements.
the humorous and ludicrous often
walked hand in hand with the tragical
and the heroic.
A simple incident Of this character Is
recalled to mind from the days when
Quartz Canon was a flourishing stage
coach station in eastern Arizona
Just to be up-to-date In the prevail
Ing fashion Of the day, Quartz Canon
had its liberal quota Of tough characters,
man eating bad 'uns" whose special
pride consisted in occasionally shoot
ing up the town and terrorizing sener-
ally the more peaceably inclined citi-
zens
This feature Of the early days was
Imerely a peculiar custom and follos-ed
for no other reason than the dictates
Of Dame Fashion. just as we follow
her mandate now in a slightly different
way.
One day in early summer, on some
special occasion or other, quite COM
pany Of miners and rangemen had
congregatJ at the Saddleback saloon
and were tampling thealiquid refresh
inenfs ofsthat hostelry in a manner be-
httng the time and place.
Things were quiet and orderly
@noueh until one of the professional
Tbulldozing gentry appeared upon the
scene.
| He was an untamed and ferocious-
looking specimen of mountain man
hood, clad in a. red wooden shirt, greasy
trousers from which one leg had been
torn irregularly off at the knee, fray
ed and discolored buckskin jacket, a
broad belt in which were stuck two
As -caliber Colts revolvers, and very
disreputable-looking fur cap minus the
brim and a considerable portion Of the
crown through which fantastic wisps
of unkempt hair protruded in reckless
disorder. Pausing just inside the
doorway, he glanced around the room
in a way calculated to make every one
present feel a cold shiver along the
spine. Then prancing up to the bar, he
brought the butt Of one huge revolver
down on to the wooden railing with
dramatic flourish.
| Here, you!" ne snarled at the bar
tender "trot out yer rat poison fer this
whole gang-an' be quick about 1t.
Everybody Ticker up!"
The barkeeper hesitated a moment
not seeing the color Of any legal tender
about the strangers person, but saw
age scowl of impatience and an omin-
GUS click of gunworks produced the
desired effect, and the crowd obliging-
ly emptied a glass all around at the
newcomers dictation.
when I say the word, it's fer you
to shiver in yer boots an obey or
ders!" he roared, leaning over the bar
and glaring darkly under the barten-
ders very nose I'm the Cyclone from
Salt River, am, an when I start go
in, the horned toads an coyotes gen.
orally hunt their holes some quick. I
could chaw up this here camp in about
four minutes an spit her out on the
other side Of the range. Is there any
galoot here what feels like disputin
my word?"
| And drawing himself up to the full
height limit, he cast wolfish glance Of
contemptuous challenge down the line
of men.
No one seemed particularly Impress
ed by the tragic information just
vouchsafed, and after allowing his
words to sink in to the proper depth,
the stranger proceeds to furnish ad-
ditional enlightenment Of the subject
Yes, sir" he exclaimed, I'm the
Salt River Cyclone, with tin hat on"
| Looks more like muskrat hide than
tin," ventured one Of his hearers, with
a subdued snicker
Wow! where's the four-legged son
of cayuse that said this here head
piece was muskrat?" fairly howled the
stranger grabbing his tattered cap
with one hand and flourishing it
around his head while he indulge1 in
startling war dance. ANY c-oss-
eyed. p'isened pup what says that amt
the genuine, two-year-old seal, right
from the icebergs of the Fiji Islands
I'll eat him, body an boots!"
A distinct silence followed this
lurid declaration. and after ordering
a second round of drinks, the Cyclone"
discovered another world to conquer