The Turnbo Manuscripts
by Silas Claiborne Turnbo
1844-1925
Turnbo Home | Table of Contents | Keyword Search| Bibliography | Biography
STORIES ABOUT DEER AND A SUCCESSFUL RAID ON YOUNG WOLVES
By S. C. Turnbo
Jimmie Ellison lived on the north side of White River a short distance
above the mouth of Beaver Creek. He owned a fine farm in the river bottom.
His dwelling house stood on a rise of ground that sloped down toward the
field. He and family were industrious, influential and prosperous. They
made fine crops of corn, saved an abundance of blade fodder and other feed
for their stock. Uncle Jimmie’s wife and daughters spun and wove a
great deal of cloth for the family with their own hands. Mr. Ellison was
also a dealer in horses. By the time his crop of corn was matured he would
buy a drove of horses from the settlers and feed them until they were sleek,
fat, and take them south to Arkansas, Louisiana, or Texas and sell them
for a good price. He also owned several slaves. The Ellison family were
closely identified with Taney County’s early history, for the time
I refer to was back in the latter forties. Though I was quite young yet
I remember their kind neighborship while we lived at the mouth of Beaver.
The names of his children that I can call to mind now were Jane, Hezekiah,
Rebecca, Susan, Berry, Jack, Marion, William and Layfayette. The three first
named daughters after they were grown married the following well known citizens
of Taney County: Hezekiah married John Cardwell; Rebecca married John Yandell,
and Jane married Crum de Lazier. On the old homestead which is now owned
by other parties is a family cemetery where Uncle Jimmie and Hettie, his
wife, are resting, and also two of his children, Susan and Layfayette. The
former child died before she was grown. The latter married a widow lady
whose given name was Sarah Ann and who was a daughter of Daniel Thurman.
How well I recall the days to mind when part of the Ellison children went
to school to Bill Wheeler on the flat near the mouth of Beaver Creek. Then
in the autumn of 1860 I and William, Marion, Layfayette ("Fate")
and Susan Ellison and Alex Steward and Sarah Steward, a brother and sister
who were relatives of the Ellison family, were schoolmates together. "Fate"
Ellison enlisted in Ben Crabtree’s company in the confederate army
and was accidently shot and killed by one of his best friends whose name
I have forgotten. Fate came near going insane over it. The accident occurred
on Mill Creek near the Antioch Schoolhouse in Izard County, Arkansas, June
30, 1862. We were all mounted men then, but were dismounted at the time
and were in line of battle on the creek bank expecting to be attacked by
the enemy, when orders came to remount and retreat back to camp at the mouth
of Livingston’s Creek opposite Mount Olive. As we were remounting one
barrel of the man’s gun which was double barrel shotgun was discharged
by accident and his friend who was in a few feet of him received the entire
load into his body and fell dead instantly. As we were in close proximity
of the enemy we were ordered to leave the body where it fell. I learned
after the war that a few old men and some women buried the remains three
days afterward as decent as their decomposed state would admit. I was informed
that he was buried on the spot where he was killed. Poor Fate Ellison’s
mind never fully recovered from the effects of killing his friend. He survived
the accident until the latter 70’s when he too joined his old friend
in death. After the death of Uncle Jimmie Ellison his surviving children
placed a monument over his grave which cost $160.
John Ellison, or Uncle Jack as he is commonly known, a son of Uncle Jimmie,
who we have mentioned above, lived many years near Pontiac, Ozark County,
Mo., and while he resided here was interviewed by the writer in regard to
his recollections of the time when his father came to White River, just
above the mouth of Beaver Creek. "Well," said Uncle Jack, "I
was born in east Tennessee, September 13, 1833, but when I was only four
years old my parents settled in Webster County, Mo. We lived there two years,
then came down to White River in Taney County in 1839. But we were not the
first settlers in the river bottom where we made our home. Joe Bartlett,
is I mistake not, settled it in 1831. When we came to the river there were
a few bands of Indiana there. The river bottom occupied by us had been a
camping ground and burial place for them. After we put the land in cultivation
there were numerous Indian bones turned up by the plow. Shortly after we
located here only three families lived at Forsyth. Their names were John
P. Vance, John W. Danforth and Dr. A. S. Layton. Though Forsyth was composed
only of a few log buildings and a small business house or two, yet it was
a merry hamlet especially when there was plenty of whiskey. The Indians
and whites would collect there frequently and fill up on liquor and gamble
and carouse. The usual manner of betting was to split the end of a stick
and insert a silver dime and plant the stick in the ground with the end
of the stick with the dime in it several inches above the surface. After
counting off ten paces the Indians one at a time were allowed to shoot at
the dime with their bows and arrows. If they succeeded in knocking the dime
out of the slit at a certain number of shoots, the money was theirs. If
not it belonged to the whites. Both Indians and whites furnished an equal
amount of dimes.
"I never hunted but little," said Uncle Jack "I remember so well the first time I ever went out to kill a deer.
It was one day in the autumn of 1845 and I was 12 years old. I felt before
starting out that I could kill a deer as well as any hunter could. After
I had got this settled in my mind I picked up my father’s rifle and
went out a short distance from the house and saw a deer and the animal stood
still while I took six shots at it and never touched it. I then changed
my mind and concluded I was not born for a deer hunter and went back to
the house. My brother, Berry Ellison, one day killed two deer at one shot
on a hill near the river bluff two miles above our house. He did not see
but one when he shot. The deer was standing broadside toward him and it
turned out that another one was standing on the opposite side of it. The
one shot at fell on the spot, the other ran a few yards before it fell.
My brother said that he was greatly surprised to see another deer start
to run and fall after the one shot at had fell. I saw 50 deer in one bunch
on Cedar Creek which empties into the river below the mouth of Beaver. This
was in the early fall of 1853. I had rode out to hunt cattle and had no
gun. The deer as they stood and looked at me allowed me to approach in 100
yards of them before they ran. After getting across a hollow they all stopped
on the hillside where I had a fine view of them and counted them. While
we are speaking of deer I want to tell you about a scrimmage Columbus Gaylor
got into with an enraged buck one day in the hills a few miles south of
Forsyth. Gaylor had shot and wounded the buck, when it suddenly pitched
at him with its hair standing out straight. Its eyes almost flashed fire.
The hunter had no time to climb a tree, but to avoid its sharp antlers he
dodged behind a large tree. Though the buck was severely wounded it dashed
around in pursuit but staggered as it ran. Round and round the tree the
man and deer went until Gaylor’s head grew dizzy. The buck made savage
motions to strike him with its horns but the hunter contrived to keep just
out of its reach. Gaylor was afraid to leave the tree and run straight forward
for fear the animal would overhaul him and gore him to death, but he could
not run around the tree any longer for the dizziness of his head caused
by running in a circle would cause him to fall and then he would be at the
mercy of the enraged beast. With these thoughts in his mind he wheeled around
and grabbed the deer by its horns. The wound and loss of blood had greatly
weakened the buck and the man found he had strength enough to hold it and
while the deer was struggling to gore him he threw it down broadside and
placing his foot on its neck he held it down until he snatched his knife
from the scabbard and cut the deer’s throat and took a breathing spell
while it was dying.
"Well, you wish to know something about the great hords of wolves
that used to inhabit Taney County in those early days," said Mr. Ellison.
"I never met any serious trouble with them, except that they destroyed
sheep, hogs and calves for us. But I will tell you about the capture and
killing of a lot of wolf pups which probably will be of some interest. Every
year about the first of June, wolves would collect together in the settlements
along the river and Beaver Creek and howl more than usual. They would make
the loudest racket about midnight. The settlers claimed that this was the
best time to hunt for their young and would start out into the forest to
destroy as many wolf pups as they could find. One day during the first days
of June, 1844, when I was in my eleventh year the wolves had howled so terrible
that it had stirred up the settlers and they collected together with dogs
to make a sweeping raid on them. They invited father to go with them as
the hunt was intended to be a big one and I begged permission to be allowed
to go too. There was no settlements then on the ridges and the wolves had
full sway in the hills between Beaver and Swan Creeks. That day’s hunt
for the ravenous beasts is still fresh in my mind for we rode several hours
over rough hills and across hollows and searched under ledges of rock and
other rough places. But we were not rewarded with success until we were
passing over some flat woods on what is now known as the Taney City ridge.
We discovered two beds under the roots of a large tree that had been blown
down by a wind storm. Each bed contained nine young wolves several weeks
old. We went to work and enjoyed a pleasant time killing them, which slightly
repayed us for the loss of our stock. A bunch of the old ones were close
by and they made a vigorous protest against the slaughter of their young.
The dogs would dart at them for a fight but they would drive the dogs right
up to us and then retreat as fast as they could go. They would run so fast
and darted around so quick that they apparently dodged the rifle balls that
the hunters fired at them. Though we did not succeed in killing any of the
old ones, yet we were satisfied with our day’s hunt. The following
year we returned to the same spot and killed seven more which made a total
of 25 taken from the same tree roots."
The writer will add here that a person passing over this same land now where it once was overrun with howling packs of wolves will see well improved farms which are owned by industrious and intelligent farmers, and viewing the thriving and growing town of Taneyville he will soon reach the conclusion that the days of big packs of wolves in that locality are past and gone forever.
Turnbo Home | Table of Contents | Keyword Search| Bibliography | Biography
