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Pioneering is characteristic of the American people. Something within seems to say: ‘Move on, explore, achieve, build.”. Such men are not afraid; their iron bodies hold hearts of gold and a spirit of courage; and so, many were the men who left already settled parts in the days of pio neering and sought jobs out far ther west. The lure of the West drew them like a magnet. The Texas Panhandle claimed many of these men. Those who remain today, after years of achieving and building, remember those less fortunate. Some of them drifted back or on; others pos sibly went down in shame, while a few lost their lives in their effort. Despite “Bury Me Not On the Lone Prairie,’”” as sung by all cowboys, almost every ranch has some lone grave within its pas tures. A double grave on the JA claims the bodies of two of its men, whose lives were snuffed out by one keen flash of lightning while on a fall round-up. This tragic story has been told in verse by Vashti Bourne, and is familiar to all lovers of cowboy songs and ballads. The round-up was on the Tale, and according to Will James, a regular hand, it was next to the largest herd he had ever seen gathered on that range. The Tale famous for its wonderful, grass, and doubly blessed, as was un usual for top land, by running water might easily have been the envy of any big rancher for its use as a summer pasture. _ The gathering which usually took about two weeks had been done, under much difficulty ,as well as discomfort. Cold fall rains had set in and continued through out the time. Dark gray clouds hung overhead promising noth ing but the steady drizzle which was making the already soaked soda so spongy that horses and cattle moved with much effort. Cowboys, nesters, and ranch men, chilled to the bone, spurred their horses on as they presse dn on this immense herd, gather ed at last. There on Burnham Hill - which was more of a Plains highland than a hill - the work ing of the herd began. The ‘‘cut” would be sent to market while the rest of the herd would be put down the trail to winter in the Palo Duro Canyon. Bob Bis hop was boss of the Tule outfit; Mitch Bell, wagon-boss of the JA, and his outfit had helped with the entire round-up; and Dick Walsh, general manager of the JA was on hand. The men at the rear of the herd, several hundred yards away, watched the maneuvering of man and beast. Skilled hands on trained horses made the cuts which were turned to Bob Christian and Warrener Reed to hold nearby. Forgetting their physical discomfort, they were only aware that the work must go on. There was no quit ting until the herd was worked and the cattle delivered to their respective destinations. The dark, gloomy ceiling above them bore no warning of a tragic interruption. But out of the un known came an awful clap of thunder followed by a terrible bolt of lighting. Out of the South west it shot like a mighty sky rocket across the whole herd, sending out hundreds of little fiery roots from its deadly main stem. Directly across the herd it angled, at last finding its mark where Bob and Warrener were holding the ten head of cuts. Deathly fear gripped every rider, for hardly a horse in the outfit but was shocked ‘to his knees. ‘The men regained composure ‘only to view a tragic scene. Two of them would never rise; they ‘had ‘gone down with their horses and their herd. Bob Bishop, Ed gar Britain and Willis Fisher were the first to the spot. Warrener and his horse were killed instant ly as the bolt struck the ‘cantle ‘of the saddle, going through clean as if it had been a bullet fired from a 22. Willis Fisher pulled Bob Christian from beneath his horse. The horse for a minute showed some signs of life.. Bob looked from one man to the other, and without speaking died in Fis her’s arms. voce The herd and the work were forgotten as dim-eyed cowboys gathered around experiencing something the West had not taught them. An unusual task of comradeship was at hand. Mitch Bell was riding at the rear of the herd and was one of the last to reach the scene. He found Dick Walsh, who had had little experience as general manager, in a state of consternation and bewilderment. Walsh ordered the boys ‘to turn the cattle loose, but Mitch intervened. He told Walsh that he, and his JA men would take care of the herd’ while the Tule outfit buried, its men. He also instructed Walsh to send to Tulia and get the best clothes that could be bought for the men, and caskets, and leave noth ing undone that was his power to do. This advice was well receiv ed for the manager and wagon boss were dear friends, having worked together as regular hands before either received promotions. Bell’s sympathetic handling of the situation was appreciated. It was about 10 o’clock in the morning. No more rain fell that mighty clap of thunder and light ning was the only one during the day; but it, in taking its grim toll, was heard almost across two counties. Being the only thunder of the day, its mighty rumble impressed all those that heard it for miles around. The bodies were taken to Tule headquarters about ten miles east of Tulsa, in Swisher County, and cared for by Fred Scott, a JA man who was assisted by Willis Fisher. The family of Reed, living at Silverton, was notified; but Chris tian’s family lived over 300 miles away in the postoak hills of Jack County, where they had settled many years before. How laid up, with a fractured ankle. His horse had fallen in him on slippery ground while on’ round, up the day before - otherwise he would have been many miles a way with the herd as was his brother Will. It was the time of the year for round-ups, and they were being made all over the million-acre range. It was Octo ber 23, 1895, and by chance Jim’s birthday. Jim had sat around the ranch house all day, visiting with the cook, DeWall, eating and reading, when about 6 o'clock , the lone rider arrived bearing the news of the younger brother’s death. Later it was known that two messengers were dispatched - ar riving messenger, Jim Love, who was sent by Dick Walsh, and Charley Parks, who was sent by Mitch Bell. The latter failing to find’ Jim, returned to the Tale in time for the funeral services. Jim had ‘always borne ‘responsi bility, and now, able or not, he news. Jim happened to be must -go to Bob. He had come west when only a lad to find a job in order to help pay off his father’s indebtedness and to help educate his younger brother and sisters. His older brother, Paul, who had come with him for the same purpose, was forced to re turn to help manage at home. And one by one, the younger brothers rode over the horizon seeking jobs on the JA with Jim. Because of the reputable charac ter and ability of the older bro thers before them, each was hir ed. Jim saw that they got good horses to ride, for he cut them from his own string. A new experience and a new responsibility now presented themselves to Jim. Despite the protests of the cook, a gentle horse was led up beside the tall ranch porch. Jim, donning his slicker and typing on his crutch es, mounted ready to begin that long, painful ride with his mes senger, Jim Love, across the can yon and on to the Tule some 40 miles away. Jim instrcted DeWall to get word to Will and send a message home. Will was to meet Jim in Amarillo where the body would be embalmed, and accompanied by them, it was to be shipped home on the Fort Worth and Den ver Railroad to Henrietta, and from there overland to Antelope. The sky was still overcast and a slow drizzle set in as these two silent cowboys began their sy oe a ———— slow trek over canyon trails. Dark soon overtook them. They were familiar with the trails, and 80 were their horses, but much depended upon their animal in stinct to carry them safely a cross. Jim was unable to get off and give his horse the advantage ‘the steep climbs as was his custom. They arrived at Tule headquarters about midnight and were met by Dick Walsh and other cowboys friends. A gloomy silence prevailed as they escorted Jim through the old ranch house where the bodies lay. These rug ged westerners, pale-faced and their usual quick movements now awkwardly gently, went to and fro. There was little sleep at the Tale that night. Walsh discussed the tragedy as well as plans for the funeral, with Jim. He convinced Jim that, owing to the condition of the bod ies, it would be impossible to get Bob’s body to Amarillo for em balming as it would take nearly three days by wagon over the spongy sod. The Reed family had immediately planned interment in the Silverton cemetery the fol lowing day for Warrener; so Jim decided the only reasonable thing to do was to bury Bob with War rener, and later to move the body to Jack County. He couldn’t for get as these plans were made the grief around the old fireside at home, and how his mother would expect him to bring Bob back. She had always depended on him. He thought, too, of Will, who would wait in vain for him in Amarillo. Jim realized that out of the family of 12, he alone would witness the last rites. ‘‘Well,” he decided at last, ‘‘when it’s all over, I'll go home.” Caskets were secured at Tulsa, and the next morning a caravan of wagons and men on horseback started for the lonely cemetery at Silverton. The services were held at the double grave that was to claim the two that had fallen together. Reverend Wallace, a young Methodist preacher, con ducted the services. Despite the poeree settlement of the country ere was a large crowd gather ed. The Reeds were a highly re spected pioneer family, and as one of the cowboys remarked, ‘Warrener was a prince of a young man, who had a host of friends.” Bob was known better among ranchmen than among the settlers, but between the two classes of reple, a loyalty pre vailed that hardly any other ranch could boast of. The men of the Tule agreed that day that they had lost two of the best men in the outfit. The JA men, and a settler, Willis Fisher, held the herd while the Tule men at tended the funeral. And those of us today who en joy the privilege of the telephone and the service of floral estab lishments, are glad to know that at the burial on that bleak Octo ber day there were masses of flowers - not delicate hothouse or sturdy, colorful bou ques from the Bradefoot yard. The Bradefoots were settlers nearby, and the mother and daughter, Gertrude, felt wholly repaid for their efforts in caring for these plants under the diffi culties of pioneering. The funeral over, Jim_return ed on the long, hard ride to the PP headquarters. He was sure Will would come there to learn of the change in plans, which he did the next day. After a brief visit between them, they rode off to gether - Will, to join the outfit on the plains and resume work, and Jim to catch the first train home. The parents, brothers and sis ters were waiting every hour for Jim’s arrival with the body. An open grave waited, and friends and loved ones stood by the be reaved through the long, trying hours. Not until Jim arrived did they know that this younger son had already received interment in the Panhandle. The family planned, at that time, to have Bob’s body moved later to the family plot in Jack County, but it still lies today beside Warrener Reed’s at Silverton. A special tri bute to their memory is always paid them by the Silverton Pio neers on Memorial Day. The funeral expenses were borne by the ranch, and later Mrs. Adair, owner of the ranch, erected a double stone at the grave. It was the request of Mrs. none that she be allowed to do is. NOTE: For details connected with the above story, I am grate ful to the following: Will James, Claude,, Texas, Mrs. Wes Lane, Wayside, Tex. E. H. Christian,
Newspaper Details
Tulia Herald
Tulia, Texas, US
Thu, Dec 27, 1962
Page 17
Full Page
Clipped by
Kelly V.
USA 12 Aug 2026
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