Old Joe Whiffle, a Kickapoo, told me that when he was just a boy he
went to Delaware Springs to borrow some coffee from a Delaware Indian.
There was a clan of Delaware camped near these Springs about twenty
miles south of Tecumseh. When he got there the Comanche were
massacring the Delaware. He hid in a nearby thicket. The Comanche
stayed all night, killed all the Delaware in this camp, took all their
possessions and left early in the morning. When Joe came out of his 
hiding place, bodies of dead Indians were lying everywhere, and wild
hogs were feasting upon them. Joe went home without his coffee.

I made a run when the Kickapoo country was opened for settlement in April
1895. Brother, five others and I rode horses. We waited for the signal
in the bed of the North Canadian River near the present site of Dale.
Soldiers were stationed along the bank and as the guns were fired everybody
made a dash. The bank was steep and I knew it would be hard to climb up it
so I dashed through a creek bed which ran into the river. While the others
were slipping and sliding down the muddy bank I was running on firm ground
toward a location which I had already selected. I had freighted through 
this country from Oklahoma City to Tecumseh, and I knew practically every
foot of it. I told the boys I would fire my gun as I rode along and if 
they lost sight of me they could follow the shots and I told them that
when I stopped I would be at a corner post from which four claims could
be staked.

When I reached my location two men were almost there also. I was determined
they should not have my place, so I began shooting. Their horses became
frightened and ran through the brush, scattering quilts and food supplies as
they went. At last the boys of our crowd found me. We staked our four claims,
but they would not allow me to file because I had freighted through there, and
the other three claims were on school land.

About a half hour after we drove our stakes a man came by riding a mule. One of our bunch offered to trade his right for the mule. The man replied that the mule was all he had, he couldn't trade him off, but that he would trade his Winchester.  No sooner said than done. Then the poor man couldn't file, because it was school land.

I helped open the first road from Asher to Shawnee. We blazed trees, and cut
underbrush, clearing the trail so that wagons could get through. It was necessary
to drive along creek banks until a crossing place could be found. A man wishing
to go to a place only three miles distant would often go ten miles to find a good
fording place.

We lived in a small log house in which a tall man could not stand up straight unless he stood between the joists.

Wife and I often went fifteen or twenty miles to a dance on one horse, and we would carry the baby on the horse in front of us. When we got to our destination the baby was put in a back room on the bed along with other babies, and we all danced the night through, returning to our homes the next morning.

When we went to camp meetings, the babies were laid on pallets near the wagons.  One day somebody changed all the babies from their own pallets to other pallets and when it was time to go home, most of the mothers picked other women's babies up and the mistakes were not discovered until people were home, and then it took two or three days to get the children to their own mothers.

Transcribed by Brenda Choate and Dennis Muncrief,  September 2000.