Uncle Johnny and Aunt Evia Richards

Uncle Johnny and Aunt Evia lived on a ranch located on the Price River about fifteen miles up river from what used to be the town of Woodside, called the Elma Marsing Ranch, a cow outfit.

Dad had a nice team of horses called Dick and Tony. We were living at Sunnyside. One day dad loaded us all in the wagon, mama, Dell, Andy, my sister Wanda. I don’t know if Evia was born yet. It is possible, maybe she was the baby of the family, I’m not sure. Also Eph Westwood and his wife Lillian went with us. Mrs. Westwood ‘s people lived on a ranch at Woodside. I think this would be about 1917.

Anyway, dad hooked Dick and Tony to the wagon and we headed for the Marsing Ranch. Not far out from Sunnyside, we left the main road. We dropped down a couple thousand feet into Ice Lander country. We had to go down a real narrow, steep dug way, hardly wide enough for one wagon. I always wondered what they would do if they met another wagon or buggy outfit on the dug way. It was about a half mile long, the steep part, but dad had good brakes on the wagon and no load except the family, plus Mr. and Mrs. Eph Westwood. We made it fine, but it was exciting to us kids.

Later a man, who owned goats named Tony Tangaro, was killed on this dug way. I can’t remember for sure. It seems the neck yoke strap broke. This strap holds the tongue up. Anyway, when the strap broke, the wagon went over the side of the dug way, end over end, killing the man. Later, my step father and John McMahan lost a wagon and a load of hay trying to go down this same dug way. I think now, we all, especially us kids, were breathing much easier when we reached the bottom.

I was about five years old. Us boys would run ahead of the wagon, there were lots of wild rabbits, cotton tails, jack rabbits. You could always see a hawk or two soaring high in the sky. One place, we saw a big long blow snake crossing the wagon road. Dad said, “Leave him alone, he does a lot of good catching rats, mice etc.” I was always afraid of snakes and wasn’t about to monkey with this one. We continued down through Ice Lander. I can remember seeing a number of coyotes at different places along the way. We also saw a lot of wild horses, big beautiful stallions. They were wild and yet, they were brave. They would come to a couple hundred yards of our wagon, head held high, stamping their beautiful legs. They would issue a challenge, a whinny, as if to say. “What are you doing here? This is our territory. Get out.” Then they would take their brood and leave.

At one point along the dim wagon road, a coyote jumped up not too far away, maybe seventy five or a hundred yards away. Dad said, “Whoa, to the team, stay real still everyone, be real quiet.” Dad kept a 30-30 rifle Winchester in a gun scabbard fastened to the side of the wagon seat. He reached down real easy like, pulled the gun out of the scabbard. Everyone was real quiet, mama holding the lines, no sound except the horses Tony and Dick chomping on their bits. It seemed like a long time to me. However, it was just a few seconds. Dad never got up off his seat. He just sat, put one foot up on top the wagon box. The coyote was standing still among a group of prairie dog holes. Everyone waiting, dad aiming and then bang, the coyote dropped. Boy howdy, what do ya know. Boy oh boy! Us three boys over the side of the wagon, running as fast as we could possibly go toward the coyote. Dad jumped off the wagon took after us calling, “Stop, stop, stay away from that coyote. Stop,” But we three boys were so excited, we couldn’t hear dad, straight to the coyote we went. We all got there about the same time. Dell and Andy were ahead of me, being older they could run a little faster, but I was brushing their heels.

They grabbed a hold of that coyote and, about the same time, dad grabbed a hold of Dell and Andrew, actually throwing them away from the coyote. It was a good thing the animal was dead. We boys were so anxious. We certainly would have been bitten badly had the coyote been alive! The coyote with his head down in the mouth of a prairie dog hole, plumb dead. Young as we were, I suppose, we thought whenever anything was shot, it was supposed to be dead. We didn’t know an animal could be wounded and be more dangerous than ever. Then and there, Dad stood us in front of him and gave us a good tongue lashing explaining to us again and again “Never to go up to an animal. No matter what kind, tame or wild, after it had been shot. Always, always make sure the animal is dead.”

Dad loaded the coyote in the back of the wagon and we continued our journey. Us boys kept looking at the coyote. His eyes sort of slanted like, a very long and big nose, and a mouth. I have found out, since I have had experience with coyotes, that a coyote’s teeth are sharper than a dogs. Us kids really did size this coyote up. His bushy tail, very beautiful and pretty.

We finally reached the Marsing Ranch. Uncle Johnny and Aunt Evia were glad to see us. This ranch was very much isolated. Visitors were few and far between, except cowboys passing up and down the river horse back, who seldom saw a woman. So I can imagine, Aunt Evia was glad to see her sister, my mother. We had a great time.

Uncle Johnny had a nice saddle horse. I was quite disappointed because Uncle wouldn’t let me ride the horse alone being too young, just a button and still wet behind the ears. “Wait a little longer, get a little older, and a little experience, then you can ride the horse all alone and all you want.” Uncle did set me on behind him and took me for a couple rides, but I saw Dell and Andrew ride the horse alone, and I figured I could do anything they could do!

Uncle Johnny had a big black dog and I kept trying to make friends with this dog. Uncle and Aunt Evia were newly married and, as yet, didn’t have children, plus they lived way out on a ranch and this dog had never been around people. He was used to being left alone. Mama and Aunt Evia each told me three or four times to leave the dog alone, but being a button, mule like in disposition, stubborn, I’m plumb determined to make friends with that old dog. Finally, that dog got plumb mad and bit me on the arm, that dog was plumb fed up with me. He bit me just below the right elbow leaving a nasty gash. Well, I suppose, I acted like most kids would do, a little bawling, not much. Brother Dell said, “Cowboys don’t bawl.” So I shut up tighter than a bullfrog in the middle of winter! I was one day going to be a cowboy and a good one.

I suggested to Uncle Johnny he ought to shoot the dog and he was about to do it. He said, “I don’t want a dog that bites people when they come around here.” Now this was a real good cow dog and very useful about the ranch. My dad said, “Leave the dog alone. We’ll be gone in a couple days, besides that boy of mine has got to learn to mind. He was told several times to leave that dog alone.” Well, you can bet your bottom dollar I didn’t fool with that dog any more. I remember they poured terpentine on the gash and wrapped my arm in bandages, that made me feel better. At that time, terpentine was considered a very good disinfectant and used by everyone.

This about covers the territory of this trip. We did go down river to the Dickman Tunnel Ranch and on down to Woodside to Lillian Westwood’s people’s ranch. But I do so vividly remember Dad shooting the coyote and being bit by the dog, and Uncle Johnny figuring I am still too young to ride his horse alone.