The Conquest: The Story of a Negro Pioneer
Page 11
CHAPTER X
THE OKLAHOMA GRAFTER
That evening at the hotel he asked me whether I wished to double mymoney by selling my relinquishment. "No," I answered, "but I tell youwhat I do want to do," I replied firmly. "I am not here to sell; I amhere to make good or die trying; I am here to grow up with this countryand prosper with the growth, if possible. I have a little coin back inold 'Chi.'" (my money was still in the Chicago bank) "and when thesepeople begin to commute and want to sell, I am ready to buy anotherplace." I admired the fellow. He reminded me of "the richest man in theworld" in "The Lion and the Mouse," Otis Skinner as Colonel PhillippiBridau, an officer on the staff of Napoleon's Army in "The Honor of theFamily", and other characters in plays that I greatly admired, wheregreat courage, strength of character, and firm decision were displayed.He seemed to have a commanding way that one found himself feelinghonored and willing to obey.
But getting back to the homestead. I looked over my claim and found itjust as I had left it the fall before, excepting that a prairie fireduring the winter had burned the grass. The next morning I returned toOristown and announced my intentions of buying a team. The same day Idrew a draft for five hundred dollars with which to start.
Now if there is anywhere an inexperienced man is sure to go wrong instarting up on a homestead, it is in buying horses. Most prospectivehomesteaders make the same mistake I did in buying horses, unless theyare experienced. The inefficient man reasons thus: "Well, I will startoff economically by buying a cheap team"--and he usually gets what hethought he wanted, "a cheap team."
If I had gone into the country and bought a team of young mares for saythree hundred dollars, which would have been a very high price at thattime, I would have them yet, and the increase would have kept me fairlywell supplied with young horses, instead of scouting around town lookingfor something cheaper, in the "skate" line, as I did. I looked at somany teams around Oristown that all of them began to look alike. I amsure I must have looked at five hundred different horses, more in aneffort to appear as a conservative buyer than to buy the best team.Finally I ran onto an "Oklahoma" grafter by the name of Nunemaker.
He was a deceiving and unscrupulous rascal, but nevertheless possessed apleasing personality, which stood him in good in his schemes ofdeception, and we became quite chummy. He professed to know all abouthorses--no doubt he did, but he didn't put his knowledge at my disposalin the way I thought he should, being a friend, as he claimed. Hefinally persuaded me to buy a team of big plugs, one of which was soawkward he looked as though he would fall down if he tried to trot. Theother was a powerful four-year-old gelding, that would have never beenfor sale around Oristown if it hadn't been that he had two feet badlywire cut. One was so very large that it must have been quite burdensomefor the horse to pick it up, swing it forward and put it down, as I lookback and see him now in my mind.
When I was paying the man for them I wondered why Nunemaker led him intothe private office of the bank, but I was not left long in doubt. When Icrossed the street one of the men who had tried to sell me a team jumpedme with: "Well, they got you, did they?" his voice mingled with sarcasmand a sneer.
"Got who?" I returned question.
"Does a man have to knock you down to take a hint?" he went on in a toneof disappointment and anger. "Don't you know that man Nunemaker is thebiggest grafter in Oristown? I would have sold you that team of mine fortwenty-five dollars less'n I offered 'em, if the gol-darn grafter hadn'tof come to me'n said, 'give me twenty-five dollars and I will see thatthe coon buys the team.' I would have knocked him down with a club ifI'd had one, the low life bum." He finished with a snort and off hewent.
"Stung, by cracky," was all I could say, and feeling rather blue I wentto the barn where the team was, stroked them and hoped for the best.
I then bought lumber to build a small house and barn, an old wagon fortwenty dollars, one wheel of which the blacksmith had forgotten togrease, worked hard all day getting loaded, and wearied, sick anddiscouraged, I started at five o'clock P.M. to drive the thirty miles toCalias. When I was out two miles the big old horse was wobbling alonglike a broken-legged cow, hobbling, stumbling, and making such aburdensome job of walking, that I felt like doing something desperate.When I looked back the wheel that had not been greased was smoking likea hot box on the Twentieth Century Limited.
The sun was nearly down and a cold east wind was whooping it up at aboutsixty miles an hour, chilling me to the marrow. The fact that I was astranger in a strange land, inhabited wholly by people not my own race,did not tend to cheer my gloomy spirits. I decided it might be all rightin July but never in April. I pulled my wagon to the side of the road,got down and unhitched and jumped on the young horse, and such acommotion as he did make. I am quite sure he would have bucked me off,had it not for his big foot being so heavy, he couldn't raise it quickenough to leap. Evidently he had never been ridden. When I got back toOristown and put the team in the barn and warmed up, I resolved to doone thing and do it that night. I would sell the old horse, and I did,for twenty-two-fifty. I considered myself lucky, too. I had paid onehundred and ninety dollars for the team and harness the day before.
I sat down and wrote Jessie a long letter, telling her of my troublesand that I was awfully, awfully, lonesome. There was only one othercolored person in the town, a barber who was married to a white woman,and I didn't like him.
The next day I hired a horse, started early and arrived at Calias ingood time. At Hedrick I hired a sod mason, who was also a carpenter, atthree dollars a day and we soon put up a frame barn large enough forthree horses; a sod house sixteen by fourteen with a hip roof made oftwo by fours for rafters, and plain boards with tar paper and sod withthe grass turned downward and laid side by side, the cracks being filledwith sand. The house had two small windows and one door, that was alittle short on account of my getting tired carrying sod. I ordered the"contractor" to put the roof on as soon as I felt it was high enough tobe comfortable inside.
The fifth day I moved in. There was no floor, but the thick, shortbuffalo grass made a neat carpet. In one corner I put the bed, while inanother I set the table, the one next the door I placed the stove, alittle two-hole burner gasoline, and in the other corner I made a binfor the horses grain.