The following letter was written by Newton Franklin Locke (born January 13, 1853 in Dallas Co., Alabama; died April 26, 1939 in Miami, Roberts Co., Texas) November 5, 1893, in Mobeetie, Texas to his brother Thomas Jackson Locke (born March 14, 1862 in Orrville, Alabama; died July 2, 1934 in Orrville, Alabama) in Alabama.

Dear Tom,
Your letter of Oct. 13th to hand. I was pleased to hear of all being well. Your letter found us all well, both my family and Matt's. I arrived at home on the 29th from my trip to the Cherokee Strip. I will give you a small sketch of my trip. towit!

Myself and four others left Mobeetie on Sept. 1st and carrying with us 17 head of horses, a mess wagon and 4 mules, plenty beding and provision and a little Hydrophoba Medicine. We traveled for eight days, going through some very pretty country. Passed several Indian reservations, saw them in their natural state in their tepees and villages. Camped among them and they treated us very kindly. And after having a pleasant journey of eight days arrived at Hennesey, our destination. We there week in camp about 4 miles from town and commence preparing our horses for the race on the 18th and while in camp we had a pleasant time. Though the town was so crowded and dusty we visited it only for provision and mail. When the 18th arrived we had our 5 race horses in fine fix, went out to the line and took our places about one hour before starting with twenty thousand people. The line at our point was 14 miles long and at 12 o'clock when the signal sounded, the ground start was made, I looked down the line for an instant and it appeared like a huge serpent moving. it was the most people I ever saw together. The crowd was composed of all nationalities. All classes of men from the gray haired Grand father to the boy of 12 years, dudes, school mamas, bicyclists, and the train with 33 cars and 3 engines was all in the start. You can amagine how I felt mounted on a Texas horse my chances were certainly very few. However myself and comrades rode on together at our usual Texas gate for about 7 mile until we got our horse well heated and covered with foam and as fast as we could. Not to hurt our horses. We then began to get faster, faster, and faster and ere long were passing the multitude very rapidly. Still we rode on recklessly. Finally we came in sight of the US Land Office at the town site of Enid, our destination. We arrived in among say 30 people the first to get there. We had made a fine race and were proud of it. We had beat every thing there ex- Western horses. Kentucky and Missouri race horses not excepted. We made the 18 mile heat in 48 minutes. Not a bad saddle horse time and that too without hurting any of our five horses. I was No. 1 to file in the land office. It was an exciting trip and I enjoyed it very much. I went over the route next day to get our wagon and other horses and could trace the route by dead horses broken buggies and wagons. Some of the prettiest horses I ever saw lay dead. Naturally run to death by not knowing how to ride them. Several people killed and several badly mashed up.

On the evening of the 18th the town of Enid looked like and was a city of tents for every lot was taken and something on it. We all sold our property and prepared to return to our homes for we did not like the country nor the people. Yet Enid will make a city sure. Of all the ground rascals on earth the Strip certainly has a large share. However we all got out safe without any serious difficulty.

Have arrived at home and are satisfied I will have to stop or you will think I am trying my hand on a novel. Mr. Long and myself have formed a copartnership and are doing well. Selling lots of goods. I have closed my cattle all out and am renting my farm so that I can rest easy, make a living and educate my boys. Matt is still best man at Dickerson's, doing very well. Give my love to Mother. Tell her I will write her soon. Tell Bill the big fat rascal to write sometime, love to Aunt. Write soon and tell me all the news.

As ever your brother,

Newt

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