Document text
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Acr..smon no.
W9667
K
WPA L. C. PROJECT Writers' UNIT
Form -3
Folklore
Collection (or Type)
Date received
10/10/40
Consignment no.
1
Shipped from
Wash. Office
Label
Amount 9p.
(incl. forms
A -D)
Title The 170s in Lake county
Place of origin POrtlandi Oregon Date 3/27./39
Project worker aa.fremi
Project editor
Remarks
Form A Federal Writers' Project
Circumstances of Interview Works Progress Administration
OREGON FOLKLORE STUDIES
Name of worker Sgrok,D. Wrenn Date March 27- 1939
Address 505 Elks Building.. Portland, Oregon
Subjeot The '70s.,in Lake County Cowboys Cattle Stampede
Name and address of informant Gus Schroeder
1315 S. W. 10th Ave..., Portland, Orewn
Date and time of interview
-Place of interview•
March 23. 1939. p.p.
41•=•••••••••••111111•011k
Sitting on a bench in the Park Blocks
vicinity of Pak and J4ferson streets
Name and address of person, if any, who put you in touch with informant
Name and address of pierson, if any, accompanying you
Description of room, house, surroundings, etc.
On a bench of one of the park blocks mentioned above, where the
people of the neighborhood sit and sun themselves and visit on pleasant days.
(Use as mow additional s)eete as necessary, each bearing the proper heading
and the number to ifteh Um material refers).
W9667
Form B Federal Writers' Project
Personal History of Informant Works Progress Administration
OREGON FOLORE STUDIES
Name of worker Sara B. Wren
Address
595 Elks Building, Portland. Oregpn
Subject The '70s in Lake County --ecwbovs --Cattle Stampede
Date March 27. 1939
Name and address of informant
grus Schroeder
1315-S. W. 10th Ave.- Portland, Oregon
InformAtion obtained should supply the following,. fa:As:
1. Ancestry 6. 0.-;cupar.s ond accomplishments with dates
2. Place and date of birth 7. Specin.1 s4=s czt interacts
3. Family 8. C%ommun:'.ty ond religous activities
4. Placer lived in, with dates 9. Doscrir,tiou of infonnal-:t
5. Education, with dates 10. Other poluts gained in interview
1. Father, AM. Bernard Schroeder; Mother, Elizabeth Gossett Schroeder;
German and Scotch stock
2. Red Bluff, California, March 3, 1865.
3. Divorced from second wife. Three sons: James, A. B. and H. F.
Two daughters: Mrs. Neva Warner
Mrs. Veva Long
4. California and Oregon. Came to Oregon in 1878.
5. District schools.
6. Stockman, handling cattle until past ten years.
7. Riding a horse and throwing a lasso.
8. Member of Odd Fellows Lodge. No church affiliations.
9. Fine looking man, large, smooth faced with brawn eyes, and
meticulous in his dress.
10. A. man who reflects something of the tragedy of his life. Members of his
family were destroyed in the Christmas tree fire at Silver Lake, Lake
County, in 1894. Later, a prosperous cattleman, he lost everything, and
for the past ten years has done -what he could, to provide for himself here
in Portland. But his heart is on the ranges in the big outdoors.
(Use as many additional sheets as necesaary, each bearing the proper heading
and the number to which the material refers).
Form C Federal Writers' Project
Text of Interview (Unedited) Works Progress Mmiristration
OREGON FOLKLORE STUDIES
Name of worker Sara B. Wrenn Date Mar 27, 1939
.Address 505 Elks Building. Portland. Oregon
Subject The '70s in Lake County Cowboys Cattle Stampede Buckeroos
Name and address of informant Gus Schroeder
1315,S. W. 10th Ave.. Portland, Oregon
Text:
Lake County was a wonderful stock country when I went there in '78.
There was lots of game too just about everything there was; an' houses
was few an' far between. What there was was log houses. They was perty rough,
with plenty of corrals about. The logs was hauled from Mt. Hagar, seven or
eight miles away. Once a week we got the mail, brought out to Silver Lake by
team an' buckboard. Paisley was the nearest town. It was sixty miles to
Paisley and it had only about 200 people, but it had saloons. When the boys
wanted them a time they went to Paisley. They was great on playin' jokes on
each other, specially when they got a few drinks under their belts. Once there
was a bunch of us at Paisley. We was watchin, a big card game in the saloon.
There was quite a lot of chips passin' hands, an' everybody was matohinl. So
Joe Bush he slips out and he gets a candle, an' he rolls it in brown paper, an,
then he lights it, an'. then he come in an' threw it in among the bunoh. It
looked jest exactly like a lit stick o' dynamite. Ant Criminyt how them fellers
skedaddledt They was goin' in every direction for Sunday, an' chips was flyin'
every which way. The boys was all so mad when they see what it was they chased
Joe out, an' he lit out for home. He didn't show up there for some spell.
(Use as many additional sheets as necessary, each bearing the heading given
above).
Gus Sohroeder Form C Page 2
'Nother time a joke was played was once when Sam Hadley got drunk
an' we laid him out on a billiard table ant covered him with
have bin an old tablecloth or samethinl, cause it was white.
Wallace he was a preacher's son ant he knew jest -what to say
a cloth. It must
Ant then Minor
he preaohed a
funeral sermon over Sam. Gosh Almightyl but that Minor Wallace could talk.
He sure would of made a good preacher. thile he was preachint Sam's funeral
oration, Sam come to out of his sleep. An' of all the oussint you ever hears
Sam was good at that. He was good lookin', too. Once when he was drunk I
took.a cork an' stuck it full of matches. I fast'n'd the cork to a little
stick, split at one end, then I put the split end an Sam's nose ant lit the
matches and hollered "Firet" It didn't burn him any, too far away from his
face for thati but it did black him aplenty. Sam was mad at me a long time
for doin' that.
Course we had lots o' buckin' contests. They was the real thing
too. Nothinl made up about them like these rodeos today. An' the saddles
didn't have places to put your knees under to help hang on. The saddle them
days was a seat with mighty little curve ant a pommel for your lass' rope,
ant that was all. Not a lot of contraptions like now. Burrell Conger was
about the best on a horse I ever saw. I never see him get thrown, ant he'd
ride 'em just for fun. The boys'd go out an run in a wild horse, then they'd
work it into the "chute" (narrow, railed -in addition to a corral, where, the
horse has no roam to move), throw a saddle on ant cinch it. Then Burrell
would jump in the saddle. The boys mould open the chute ant away they'd go
out in the open, an' there'd be some fun. Mebbe that cayuse 'd try evIry
damn fool buck there mast Twisters, stiff -legged, whirlinf, rearm', every
thin'. But he wouldn't get that boy Conger off. Ant mind yuh, he wouldn't
Gus Schroeder Form C Page 3
even have a bridle. Shucks, what 'as the use? The olt oayuse wouldn't
know what it meant. By an' by, when he was all give out the horse I
mean the boyed chase him back in the corral an' the chute, ant Burrell 'd
climb off, chipper as you please. There was one boy, a halfbreed named Walt
Sibley, ridint for John Jackson of Goose Lake Valley. He rode a mustang
till he got to bleedin' at the lungs. The boys had to lass' the pony ant
take him off. He jee about died.
I've seen some perty fine ropin' in my day. One feller I knew was
about the best I ever seen. He could lass' underhand ant overhand. Ivy seen
him throw a calf 50 feet away, oatchin' both bine feet. He us'd a big loop.
He'd throw the lass' agin' the shoulder so it 'uld lop under the belly, ant
than he'd jerk it up quick so it luld catch both feet. I seen him do that
eight times out a' ten over In over agin. I wasn't no mean roper myself.
Once a feller named Duncan and me was ridin' up in the mountain range. We
seen some mountain sheep, an' we took after 'em. Finally I lased one.
Mountain sheep's stupid an, stubborn, jest like other sheep. This 'un was
soairt ant it wouldn't budge no way. I tied my riata to my saddle horn ant
pulled, but I couldn't do enything with it. So Duncan an' I tied its legs
an' tried to pack it on our horses. That didn't work neither, so we got
tired an' turned it loose.
'Bout the most exciting thing I remember was a cattle stampede back
in the early '90s. There was 12 or 14 riders of us and we was taking 2,000
steers out to the Syoon country. They'd been bought ant taken in email bunches
out to Cold Springs, an' that was where we picked 'em up. On from there it
was a 120 mile drive. 'Course we had to ride herd at night, doin, it in two
shifts. I was boss of the first shift. It was midnight. We'd bin singin,
Gus Sohroeder
Form C Page 4
an' I was jest startinl to go after the boys for the second shift, when
one o' my boys Johnny Parker it was started brayin' like a jack.
Mans it wasn't moreln the shake of a sheep's tail when them cattle be-
gin millin' an' then they was off. Yuh never heard such a racket in your
life, what with their runnin' on that hard open ground, their bellowint
an' their horns crashint Their horns crashint was the worst. Yuh
wouldn't think they could make so much noise. They was jest crazy with
fear. Well, there -wasn't much sleep for any o' us that night. We'd try
to get 'round 'em, yellint like mad, an' every once in a while the tail
end 0 the big bunch would drop off an, wander away, an' then they'd have
to be herded in. It was long after sun -up 'fore we got 'em in control,
tan then we found we was 26 head out. Four was killed an' the rest we
finally tracked up to the mountains ant got back. We was 12 days goinl
that 120 miles.
Vie had a lot o' songs we sung, but the only ones I remember was
the "Spanish Cavalier," "Juanita," "Leather Britches," an' "Thru the key-
hole in the door." That last was kind -a smutty, not bad, just kind -s.
smutty. I don't remember haw they went, any of tem, just their names.
The boys them days didn't dress so gaudy as these rodeo riders.
They wore 'chaps, at course. Sometimes they was goatskin with the hair
outside. Sometimes cow leather, mebbe just plain or mebbe with fancy
carving op 'dm. They wore flannel shirts most o' the time, but plain
colors, not these big checked things like we see today. They wore Stet-
son hats with stiff brims, an' of course they wore neckerahiefs. There
was sense to that to keep their necks from burninl. There was a time for
,four or five years in the '60s when the boys wore tailor-made pants, made
Gus Schroeder Form C Page 5
perty tight, with a strip o' buckskin up the inside seam an' buckskin
sewed over the seat. This buckskin was sewed on with fancy, colored
thread in fanoy stitohin, so they was perty gay. That was quite a style
with the boys out there, an' I never knew of them pants bean' wore any
place else. I don't know who started it.
We didn't have much racint. Guess the boys was too tired ridinl
range. But I did see one race I'll never ferget. It was at Paisley.
There was a feller there called Dick Sherlock. Nobody liked him very much.
Ant .there was Uncle George Duncan. Sherlock had what they called a sheep
camp team, ant Uncle George had a span a bays. Some way they got arguinl
about which could go faster, an' they settled it on the track. There was a
mile track, a n' those two men got out, one in his buckboard that was
Sherlock ant Uncle George in his buggy, ant away they went lickity-split.
They run them horses clear 'round that mile track. Evtry minnit look'd like
one or 'tother 'd go over. Everybody in town 'bout two or three hundred
people was out yellin' their fool heads off. Even the women was out,
yellin' "Come on, Uncle George' Come on, Uncle Georget" Uncle George beat
by 'bout 60 feet.
I never got lost but once, 'an then it wasn't in eny blizzard; just
a common old snowstorm. Dunoan and me was up in the Tamarack Mountains.
We was kind -a cold, so we built a fire and warmed up, an' then we started
home. Snow was fallin' but it wasn't bad. We kept goin' an' goin' ant
gettint no place, an' perty soon we came to some traoks, an Dunoan sez,
"There goes a couple o' oll bulls, let's follow 'em up." We followed 'em,
ant perty soon there we was right where we'd built a fire to warms our-
selves1 There, we thought we was all right an' we was just goin' in a
Gus Schroeder Form C Page 6
circle all the time. But there wasn't anything scary 'bout it. We soon
found our may out.
We didn't have much dancint. The nearest girls was at Paisley.
That was too far to go very often. 'Bout the only chivarri in my re-
oollection was my own. That was in 1888. It was on my ranch at Silver
Lake. Same a' the boys tipped me off, so when the crowd came I was ready
for tem. I had a double-barreled shot -gun an' I filled her up with powder.
When I heard 'em, I opened the door a mite and stuok that gun out, ant Jack
Kelsey yelled, "Jesus Christ, boys, he's shootint at usl" I hed to laugh
then. I called 'em in. I had a couple o' jugs o' whiskey I give 'am, an'
they got teed up an, vent home.
Form D Federal Writers' Project
Extra Comment Works Progress Administration
OREGON FOLKLORE STUDIES
Name of worker Sara B. Wrenn ,Dateyarch 27, 1939
Address 505 Elks Building, Portland, Oregon
Subject The 170s in Lake County Cowboys Cattle Stampede
Gus Schroeder
1315 S. N. 10th Ave., Portland, Oregon
Name and address of informant
Comments
The informant proved a character of the *Virginian" cowboy type,
Gentle and slaw speaking, and still handsome, he drawled at the finish of
the interview, "I didn't think I had much that was interestini, but I
wouldn't be surprised if yuh didn't get a perty good story after all, with
all them questions o yours."
(Use as many additional sheets as necessary, each bearing the heading given
above).