The Cowboy Who Caught Wolves with His Hands for A President
A fleeting moment is sometimes all it takes to dramatically change a man's fortunes. Oklahoma Territory cowboy John R. "Jack" Abernathy discovered this fact firsthand in the spring of 1905 after an acquaintance mentioned his name at a White House dinner.
Texas hardware magnet Cecil A. Lyon told President Theodore Roosevelt about an extraordinary feat he saw Abernathy perform at an event he hosted on Christmas Day 1904. Lyon enthusiastically described how Abernathy caught wolves with his hands.
Roosevelt dismissed Lyon's claim at first as a joke. The president was most assuredly no stranger to tall tales during his storied life as a Dakota Territory cowboy, Rough Rider, and politician, as well as on his numerous hunting forays. So why would he believe this wild yarn? Only Lyon remained adamant in his claim until the president saw his friend wasn't kidding.
Finally, convinced by Lyon's sincerity, Roosevelt expressed a desire to see Abernathy in action. The president's curiosity prompted him to write Abernathy a letter, asking if would be available to stage a wolf hunt.
Abernathy promptly agreed — a decision that would forever change his life.
Until then, Abernathy had seemingly lived an obscure, albeit romantic existence on the Western frontier. By his own account, the Texas-born cowboy began working for the A-K-X Ranch at the age of nine. His primary duty was to patrol the open range, armed with a .38-caliber pistol because a .45-caliber pistol proved too heavy for the lad.
In 1887, at age 11, Abernathy joined his first cattle drive. He later entertained saloon patrons in Sweetwater, Texas as a pianist and fiddler, and also earned wages as a "bronc buster" and rancher. Yet it was his unique skill as a wolf hunter that forever shaped his identity and fate — one that led to a presidential appointment as a U.S. Marshal in 1906.
Abernathy discovered his unique skill by chance at age sixteen in 1892 when he instinctively thrust his hand into the mouth of a large West Texas "loafer" wolf. His fist miraculously landed at the back of animal's jaw, preventing it from clamping down on Abernathy's hand with its razor-like teeth. Although in an unguarded moment he swung his left hand near the animal's mouth, and it buried one of its front teeth into his flesh, penetrating bone. Abernathy began to bleed rapidly. The loss of blood soon rendered him weak, and he began to think he might not survive. Suddenly, his brother appeared to help extract his hand from the wolf's mouth and tie it shut with a piece of wire.
The fateful episode gave Abernathy a revelation and a nickname for life — "Catch 'Em Alive Jack."
Now, thirteen years later, Abernathy prepared to host a celebrated wolf hunt for a president. Abernathy selected a picturesque location near his homestead in the far southwestern reaches of Oklahoma Territory from which to stage the hunt. His chosen campsite nestled against the Deep Red Creek eighteen miles east of the territorial town of Frederick in the Big Pasture, a 480,000-acre reserve of open prairie teaming with wildlife.
The sprawling reserve stretched as far south as the Red River, and encompassed land northeast owned by the Apache, Comanche, and Kiowa tribes in the shadow of the Wichita Mountains. By then, Texas cattle barons such as Samuel Burk Burnett of The Four Sixes Ranch and William Thomas Waggoner of The Big D Ranch were leasing large swaths of the Big Pasture from the tribes. Burnett and Waggoner would be among a select group of dignitaries invited to join Roosevelt's hunting party, which also included Rough Riders W. Sloan Simpson and Grandville Roland Fortescue; Comanche Chief Quanah Parker; and a few others.
Newspapers covered Roosevelt's train trip westward, chronicling his brief stops to address large crowds. The president spent a day in San Antonio to celebrate with his beloved Rough Riders, and again boarded a train north.
Roosevelt and his party pulled into the Frederick on April 8 after a nearly non-stop journey from San Antonio. A carriage awaited to escort the president to a decorated grandstand on Main Street, where American flags hung from nearly every home in the frontier town. Much to his delight, Roosevelt arrived at the grandstand to see an estimated crowd of 5,000 to 6,000 spectators waving and cheering wildly.
The president saluted the crowd with a wave of his hat and a flash of his trademark smile. Abernathy soon rode toward the grandstand on his white horse, "Sam Bass." Lyon was the first dignitary to notice Abernathy as he climbed the grandstand steps, and he interrupted the president's speech to announce, "Here comes the wolf catcher, Mr. President!"
Roosevelt wheeled toward Abernathy — a stout, tanned man who most assuredly fit the president's rugged image of Western American vitality.
"You look like a man who could catch a wolf," the president bellowed. "I want to congratulate you for what I know you are going to do what Colonel Lyon says you can do!"
Raucous cheers swept over the grandstand once again as Roosevelt enthusiastically shook Abernathy's hand. The response from onlookers caught Abernathy by surprise. So many in the crowd had known him and his knack for catching wolves for years. He wondered why they were now making a "fuss."
Abernathy's unusual calmness was surpassed only by anxiousness of his honored guest to reach the hunting grounds. In fact, Roosevelt left his admirers with a polite, plain-spoken warning. "I like my citizens, but don't like them on a coyote hunt," he said. "Give me a fair deal to have as much fun as even a President is entitled to. Goodbye and good luck."
With those words, the spry Roosevelt hopped into an awaiting carriage and was whisked away to Abernathy's chosen campsite on Deep Red Creek, a timber-lined tributary that fed into the Red River. The party dubbed the campsite "Camp Roosevelt" in the president's honor.
Authorities took every measure to ensure the president's privacy during the five-day hunt. Soldiers from nearby Fort Sill patrolled the boundaries of the Big Pasture to keep curious citizens away. Even newspaper reporters and photographers were banned from the hunting grounds.
R.H. Wessell, the Frederick Enterprise publisher, revealed in a 1936 interview how he managed to cover Roosevelt's celebrated hunt for his readers. The Spanish-American War veteran befriended several of the soldiers guarding the president. As a result, the soldiers passed him detailed notes of the hunt daily. A number of colorful anecdotes emerged from these missives over the next week.
Once Roosevelt and his party reached their destination, everyone quickly busied themselves setting up camp. The men later sat around the crackling fire beneath an endless canopy of stars that night. Coyotes yelped and wailed nearby in the cover of darkness. The jovial mood in camp became even more delightful when Roosevelt began to tell stories of his youthful days in the Dakota Territory, and of his intense love for the outdoors. Members of the party listened tentatively.
Roosevelt arose early the next morning to behold a panoramic view of a vast, pristine prairie. He later noted in an article for Scribner's Magazine the abundance of cottonwood, elm, and pecans that skirted the creek next to their camp, and the symphony of chirping cardinals, mockingbirds, and scissor-tailed flycatchers from the nearby woods.
Roosevelt's senses were greatly heightened the next day when Abernathy led the highly anticipated, first hunt. The cowboy rode alongside the president at the front of the party that first morning, with a string of fifteen greyhounds trotting nearby. Abernathy's dogs were not only fearless but trained to tackle a wolf or coyote long enough for their master to catch the animal alive. Finally, after a short ride, two gray wolves were spotted about a half mile away.
"Cannon Ball" — Abernathy's favorite dog — bolted from the pack. The chase ended inside a mile and half when the dog tackled the wolf, allowing Abernathy to leap from his horse and grab the back of the animal's lower jaw with his heavily gloved, right hand.
A smiling Abernathy triumphantly held the animal aloft for the president.
"Bully!" exclaimed Roosevelt, who had dismounted his horse. "I haven't been skunked. This catch pays me for the trip to Oklahoma and corroborates Colonel Lyon's statements. But say, isn't that wolf biting you?"
"No," Abernathy replied. The wolf hunter then explained, "You have to catch them that way or they will fight you." The president examined the position of Abernathy's hand at the back of the jaw and marveled at the animal's docile nature while in the hunter's clutches.
"Oh, I see," Roosevelt said, "but how do you get your hand behind those teeth?"
Grinning, Abernathy replied, "By practice, Mr. President."
Roosevelt later described Abernathy's prowess in a letter to his eldest son, 17-year-old Theodore III. The president glowingly noted how Abernathy "never used a knife or rope in taking these wolves, seizing them by sheer quickness and address and thrusting his hand into the wolf's mouth in such a way that it lost all power to bite."
Roosevelt experienced an even greater thrill the next day when the party spotted a coyote, which cleverly led them on a wild and dangerous chase through prairie-dog towns, up and over stony hills, and into narrow draws. At one point Abernathy's horse jumped a bluff. Roosevelt, riding a prized, dove-colored steed, followed without hesitation. Abernathy later called the president "the best rider I ever saw" in his autobiography. He also wrote of that specific chase, "I realized that I was making a dangerous ride; that though my life was in danger, the President of the United States was taking every chance that I was, in following me."
Finally, after ten miles of perilous riding, the last greyhound in the chase caught the coyote near a small creek, barren of trees. A fight ensued. Abernathy galloped over the coyote, which as Roosevelt witnessed from twenty yards away, "gave a wicked snap, cutting the boot." Abernathy sprang from his horse, fell upon the coyote while still holding his reigns with his left hand, and instantly snatched the animal by jamming his gloved right hand in the back of its jaws.
"This beats anything I've ever seen," shouted the president excitedly, "and I have seen a good deal!" Roosevelt later commemorated that memorable moment for a national magazine audience, calling Abernathy's surreal performance "as remarkable a feat of the kind as I have ever seen."
Or would ever see again.