Cousin Sam, part Choctaw and part Cherokee, kills his first Comanche, or not

Cousin Sam Glenn, born 13 December 1854, who grew to be six feet seven or so, told tales in Kerrville, Texas, until his mid 80s. His father may never have told him that he was part Indian himself.

Here is his account of killing his first Indian.

    We moved to Kerrville in 1862. Just about this time I killed my first Indian. Father told Frank, the negro man, for him and myself to go out in the woods and get the work steers and haul some wood. Frank had father's old long rifle, shot pouch, powder horn and all the junk that went with a cap and ball gun. I had no gun and didn't need one. We separated, Frank going one way and I another. As I was going through the brush I ran upon a warrior of the Comanche tribe--just one--that was plenty. Then the race began--yes, I run him plum to death by keeping in the lead. There must have been two there at the time, or he lived over the race, for an Indian came up to me at Fort Giffin 12 years later. He said, "Howdy, Leaping Deer."

Since the NEW YORKER blog this week says that I write with "a rare combination of humor and passion" I am looking back at some of the ancestral humorists with new appreciation. This kind of thing has to be genetic.