CHAPTER III

PIONEERS, [Continued.]

As early as 1852 to 1851 a few settlements of a permanent character began to be made along the Brazos and its tributaries within the territory now embraced in Hood and Somervell Counties. In addition to Charles Barnard, already mentioned, a few other hardy and courageous men pushed their way high up the Paluxy, Squaw, Stroud, and Robinson creek, on the west; while others began to descend the divide separating the Trinity and Brazos waters, toward the latter stream, and founded their homes along Fall, Walnut, Rucker's and Long creeks. At this period the Comanche, Caddo and other Indians held almost undisputed possession of this territory, and wild game abounded everywhere. To those early settlers the wild, ferocious and war-like Comanche was always a constant menace; but the Caddo and some other tribes were more peaceably inclined, and while their friendship was cultivated and fair treatment awarded them, were invaluable allies to the white settlers against the depredations of the more war-like races of Indians.

Foremost among the early settlers was W.J.W. Powell, familiarly called "Uncle Billy." He came to Squaw creek and settled upon the farm he still owns, near Tolar, about the year 1853. He is so truly representative of the better class of early settlers, that a brief sketch of his life will not be deemed out of place. Mr. Powell sprang from on of those hardy families, who settled Georgia, about the times of Oglethorpe; he is a veteran of the Florida war; migrated with his father at an early date to Arkansas, thence to Texas. Was the first white man to settle on Squaw creek, where he devoted himself to his favorite occupation of hunting; putting in a small farm from which, with his trusty gun, he made ample provision for his family, which began to multiply rapidly. The only near neighbor Uncle Billy had for some time was "Jack", a Caddo Indian, who camped on the opposite side of the creek from him, with his two wives, and the most friendly relations sprang up between Uncle Billy and this Indian. Neighborly courtesies were exchanged between them, and they hunted together the wild deer and turkey. "Jack" always dressing Uncle Billy's pelts for him, and coming to him for milk and other domestic wants. These friendly relations continued undisturbed, and through "Jack" the other members of his tribe, whose hunting parties frequently traversed this section, were influenced to maintaining friendly relations with the whites, thus affording great protection against the more savage tribes, until about the year 1850, when in a evil hour, a party of whites, either through wantonness or mistake, fell upon a peaceable camp of Caddos, near the town of Palo Pinto, in the dead hour of midnight, and while they slept, killed and wounded a number of men and women, and possibly some of their children. This affair effectually aroused the savage instincts of the Indian and henceforward the scalping knife of the Caddos was as much a terror to the sparse settlements of whites as was that of the Comanche. Before day one morning immediately after this affair, "Indian Jack" came to Uncle Billy's and awakening him, told him of the occurrence, and that it necessitated his departure, saying, as he regretfully took his leave of his white friend, "hereafter the white settlers will be in much more danger." And many a solitary traveler, and remote settler afterwards gave his life and that of his family in verification of this ominous warning.

Returning to Mr. Powell, he is now in his 78th year, having lost his wife a few years ago is living with his son, John, at Tolar. Around him are settled his children, Jackson R., Robert J., Joseph M., Lewis H., Charles Y. and Jno. R., and three daughters, all prosperous and excellent citizens. Mr. Powell is a man of large physical stature, has enjoyed robust health, and amid the scenes of his frontier life, has maintained a character irreproachable for integrity, and beautified by Christian virtues.

A few weeks after Powell settled on Squaw creek, W.J. Richardson and William Robinson settled on the Paluxies, Richardson on that prong which hears his name; he is still living in Scurry County, having removed from Hood County only a few years ago. Robinson has long been dead, but one son and possibly others of his children still live on Paluxy. About the same time Gideon Mills settled on the main Paluxy, about where Andrew Jackson now lives. He is still living, at a ripe old age, at Big Springs, Texas. He became closely identified with many of the affairs affecting Hood County.

Col. G.A. Rucker, with his mother, Mrs. M.L. Rucker, located on the east side of the river in 1854, and gave name to the creek, and once started, the Colonel has been locating ever since. He is a character too well known and identified with Hood County, and this section of the state, to be passed by with a mere mention. It is not known when nor by what means he acquired his military title, but certainly not from having hailed from Kentucky, as he was originally from Tennessee, but how far back no one seems to know, and being still a "young man", and a bachelor, few have the temerity to seek information on this point. He never sought nor held civil office, and it is surmised that he acquired his military title by a process of gradual absorption of that much distinction, from the many exploits and adventures he has engaged in with the opposite sex. He possesses fair education; is learned in the land lows of Texas; keenly alive to the weakness of the human family, it therefore, a humanitarian of the agnostic school which knows of no sheol. But to relate all the adventures in which the Colonel has figured would be to tax the credulity of my readers or subject myself to the charge of a Don Quixotic effort, rather than the pursuit of a sober line of plain history. He is a man good at heart towards his fellows, ever ready to heal the wound and cover up the frailty.

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