Jim Bowie (2 page)

The next few years were some of the happiest of my life. Jim and I roamed the swamps together. He grew into a strong man and I grew into a pretty good dog, if I do say so myself. We had a lot of fun. Jim wrestled alligators from time to time and we hunted and fished and spent our time outdoors. Sometimes Rezin would come with us, but mostly it was me and Jim.

There was one man who didn’t like Jim. He was the local sheriff who also served as a banker. One day Jim and I walked into his office.

“Hello, Norris,” Jim said. “I need to talk to you.”

“Have a seat.” He motioned to a chair. “What can I do for you?”

“Well you see, I need a loan. I have a chance to do some business, but I need some money to get the business started.”

The banker leaned back in his chair. “I don’t think I can help you. I know some of the people you do business with, like that pirate, Jean Lafitte. I don’t think it would be smart for me to loan you money.”

Jim leaned forward in his chair. “Now, look here, Norris. Mr. Lafitte is not involved in this business, and even if he were, as long as I pay you back, why do you care who is in it?”

“I care because it’s my money, and I don’t have to give it to somebody if I don’t want to. I think you need to take your mangy dog and get out of my office.”

Jim stood up. “Now look here, Norris. Just because you don’t like me doesn’t mean you can talk bad about my dog.”

Jim took a step toward the banker. Norris reached into his desk and pulled out a pistol. He fired it at Jim, but Jim ducked and the ball hit the wall. Jim looked at the banker through the curling smoke.

“I’ll go. But I won’t forget this.”

I followed him out of the office. We walked down the street and saw Rezin walking toward us. He had a package under his arm.

“What’s the shooting all about?” he asked.

Jim looked back at the office where Norris was peeking out of a window.

“I asked Norris for a loan and he didn’t want to give it to me. He insulted Gator, and when I stood up he shot at me. I didn’t have a weapon, so I left. I reckon I’ll see him again sometime.”

Rezin handed the package to Jim.

“I think you might need this. I had it made especially for you.”

Jim took the package and unwrapped it. Inside was the biggest knife I had ever seen. The blade was long and curved at the end. It had a sharp point for stabbing, but it also had a sharp edge for cutting. The hand guard covered Jim’s big hand. The upper edge was wide enough to block the thrust of another knife. Jim held the knife and swung it in a circle.

“There is some weight to this. This is the best knife I have ever seen. Where did you get it?”

“I had the blacksmith make it. With all the fights you’re getting into lately, I decided you needed some way to protect yourself.”

Jim took the scabbard from Rezin and slipped the knife into it.

“Thanks, Rezin. I appreciate this.”

Rezin walked over and put his arm around Jim’s shoulder.

“Jim, I think it would be a good idea for you to get out of here for awhile. You have some pretty strong enemies. Norris is the sheriff, and he could make it really hard on you.”

Jim thought about what Rezin had said.

“You could be right, but I don’t know where I would go.”

“Jim, there’s a place where land is free for the taking. Where you can hunt and fish as much as you like. I even heard there are gold mines there.”

“Really? Where is this place?”

“Texas. I hear that you can do whatever you want there and nobody will bother you.”

Jim reached down and scratched my ears.

“Texas. That’s part of Mexico. I hear that the Mexican government doesn’t want people coming in and taking land without permission.”

“Well, it’s not hard to get permission. They want settlers. And a man like you could do well there. You could make a fortune.”

“How about you, Rezin? You coming with me?”

Rezin shook his head. “Jim, I can’t leave Ma right now. You know she’s getting old. I need to look after her. But you get settled and get a big place, then send for us. We’ll come live with you.”

Jim stared into the distance. He appeared to be trying to see Texas.

“You make it seem real tempting, Rezin.”

“You need to give it a try, Jim. You don’t have anything to lose and a whole lot to gain. Besides, if you stay here you’re going to end up in jail, or dead.”

Jim straightened up. He looked at the knife that Rezin had given him. He glanced back at the office where Norris still watched him from the window. He looked down at me and smiled.

“Well, Gator. It looks like you and me are going to Texas.”

“OW! Butch, let go of my ear!” Princess yelped.

The old dog looked up to see Butch pulling on one of Princess’ ears with his teeth.

“Here, Butch. Stop that right now,” Gator said. “What’s wrong with you?”

Butch dropped the ear and hung his head.

“I want to sit next to you. She always gets to sit next to you.”

The old dog shook his head. “If you two are going to fight, I’m going to take a nap.” He stretched out in the shade.

“No, Grampa,” Butch said. “We’ll be good. Tell us the story.”

Princess curled up next to the old dog. “Yes, Grampa. We want to hear the story.”

The old dog raised his head. “Well, all right. But any more fighting and that’s the end of the story.”

Butch lay down next to Princess. The old dog scratched his ear with a hind foot.

“Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Jim and I headed for Texas. I tell you I had no idea how big Texas was. We walked for days. The grass on the prairie came up to the belly of Jim’s horse. Most of the time it was over my head. Sometimes we would flush a rabbit and I would chase him, but those Texas rabbits are fast. I never caught one. Along the trail we met up with a man named Isaac Donoho. He and Jim became friends and he rode with us.

One evening just about sunset, we saw a campfire glowing in the distance. We headed toward the fire and came upon three men cooking supper. The cooking meat sure smelled good. As we got near the camp Jim called out, “Hello. We’d like to come into your camp.”

The men reached for their rifles, and Jim and Isaac held out their hands to show they were friendly.

“Hold it right there,” one of the men around the campfire said.

“It’s all right, friend,” Jim said. “We’re traveling through Texas and would like to spend the night here if you don’t mind. This is Isaac Donoho. My name is Jim Bowie.”

The men looked at each other. The one who had spoken walked up to Jim and said, “Jim Bowie? The knife fighter? I heard of him. If you are really Jim Bowie, let me see that knife.”

Jim smiled and slowly pulled his knife from the scabbard. He turned it so the handle was pointing toward the man and handed it to him.

“Here you go. Be careful. It’s mighty sharp.”

The man took the knife and held it carefully. He turned to his friends.

“I’ve never seen a knife like this. I think this is the best knife I’ve ever seen. I guess you really are Jim Bowie. You and your friend are welcome to have some supper and stay here tonight.”

“Thank you,” Jim said as he stepped down from his horse. “That food smells mighty good.”

“We found a small herd of buffalo. Nothing better than roast buffalo.” The man walked over and sat by the fire. “My name’s Turner. This here is Johnson and Smith. We’re headed to San Felipe. We’re going to see Mr. Austin.”

“Stephen F. Austin?” Jim asked.

Turner nodded. “The very same. He’s the man to see about getting some land grants. There’s a lot of land available in Texas.”

Jim poured himself a cup of coffee. “Sure is. We’ve been riding for days, and it looks like we’ll be riding for several more days.”

Turner cut a slice of meat from the roasting buffalo. “Where are you heading?”

Jim blew on the hot coffee. “No place special. We’re just looking over the country. We want to get some land and we’re searching for a good spot.”

Turner took a bite of the meat. “Why don’t you ride with us to meet Austin? He knows where all the best land is. He could probably help you get a grant. He’s in good with the government of Mexico.”

Jim looked over at his friend. “What do you think, Isaac? Should we go meet Mr. Austin?”

Isaac shrugged. “I don’t think it could hurt anything. We don’t really have any plans. He might get us lined up with some good land.”

Jim took a sip of the coffee. “All right then, Turner. We’ll ride with you to see Mr. Austin. Now if you don’t mind, I think I’ll try some of that buffalo.”

Jim pulled his knife and cut a large slice of the roasting meat. The fat dripped into the fire and sent sparks dancing in the dark sky. The smell of the meat was wonderful. I was hungry. I looked around at the men, but they were eating and talking. It was plain that no one was going to give me anything to eat. I walked over to the meat and stuck out my tongue. I licked the meat. It sure tasted good. Just then the fire sparked and some sparks landed on my tongue. I yelped and ran away from the fire, looking for some water to cool my tongue. As I ran into the darkness I could hear Jim and the others laughing. I found a small puddle of water and lapped it with my burning tongue.

As the cool water poured over my tongue I heard Jim say, “I think old Gator’s going to think he’s better off with an alligator chasing him than a fire burning his tongue.”

The men were still laughing as I slunk back toward the camp. I was determined to get some of that meat, and this time I would watch out for the fire.

I TROTTED ALONGSIDE THE HORSES as they walked down the dusty street of San Felipe. The town didn’t look like much. There were a few wooden buildings lining the dirt street. A dog came running at me, barking and showing his teeth. Jim swerved his horse toward the dog and it ran away. Jim looked down at me and smiled.

“You sure have a way of making friends fast, Gator.”

I looked up at Jim and wagged my tail. He was always looking after me, but someday I was going to show him that I could take care of myself.

“Which building is Austin in, Turner?” Jim asked.

Turner took off his hat and scratched his head.

“I’m not sure.” He saw a woman walking down the street and called to her. “Excuse me, Ma’am. Do you know where I might find Mr. Stephen Austin?”

The woman studied the men for a few moments. Then she pointed to a building at the end of the street.

“He’s in there,” she said.

“Many thanks,” Turner said as he replaced his hat. The men rode down the street and tied their horses in front of the building. I followed the men through the door. There was a small desk in the room, and a man was busy writing at the desk. He looked up as we entered the room.

“What can I do for you fellows?” he asked.

Jim walked over to him and extended his hand.

“Would you be Mr. Stephen Austin?”

The man took Jim’s hand. “I would.”

“My name’s Jim Bowie. My friends and I would like a word with you if you have the time.”

Austin stood up.

“Jim Bowie. I’ve heard of you, sir. Your reputation and that knife of yours are well known around here. We’ve heard about the fight you had at the Sandbar. I wonder if you would let me see your knife?”

Jim took his knife from its scabbard and handed it to Austin. Austin waved it through the air a few times and then handed it back to Jim.

“A truly amazing knife.” Austin sat down. “Now what can I do for you gentlemen?”

Jim sat in a chair across from Austin. I walked over and lay down in a corner of the room. The other men stood near the doorway.

“Well, Mr. Austin.” Jim looked back at his friends. “We were wanting to find a good place to set up a home. We thought you might be able to tell us where we could find some good land. “

Austin rubbed his chin.

“Well, land is not as easy to find as it used to be. There’s some trouble with the government of Mexico. I think they’re getting worried about all the new settlers coming to Texas from the United States. They’re not as willing to give out grants as they once were.”

Austin searched the papers on his desk. He pulled out a clean sheet and began to write. For several moments there was no sound in the room except the scratching of the pen on the paper. Austin finished his writing and looked up at Jim.

“This is a letter that will introduce you to two very important men in San Antonio: Mr. Juan De Veramendi and Mr. Juan Seguin. Mr. Seguin’s father, Don Erasmo Seguin, is a strong supporter of the new settlers. I think these men can help you find some good land.”

Jim took the paper from Austin.

“Thank you, sir. You said that the government of Mexico wasn’t happy with the new settlers. Do you expect trouble?”

Austin leaned back in his chair and sighed.

“I’m afraid that there will be. There are some people here who want us to separate from Mexico. These men are causing trouble and I’m afraid that Mexico will send an army to stop the troublemakers.”

“You don’t want to separate from Mexico?” Jim asked.

“I don’t think we could win a war with Mexico. They’re too strong and we’re not organized. Too many people want to be the leaders. One of the worst is a young man from South Carolina named William Travis. He and his friends stir up trouble whenever they can. It’s not good for Texas.”

Jim stood up. “Well, Mr. Austin, I didn’t come to Texas to get in a fight. I just want to find a place and settle down. Thank you for your letter. I guess we’ll go find these men.”

Austin stood up and shook Jim’s hand.

“Well, if trouble does come, I’m glad to know we have Jim Bowie on our side.”

I followed Jim and the others outside. They mounted their horses and rode out of town. Turner rode up beside Jim.

“What do you think about the trouble with Mexico?”

Jim looked out across the open prairie.

“I don’t know right now. Maybe these two gentlemen will know more. One thing I do know: If the Mexican government starts trouble, I’ll sic ol’ Gator on ’em.”