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Authors: John Holmes Jenkins
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their horses, all of which were regained except three.
In the spring of 1842, William Perry, Henry Lentz, William Barton, and myself made arrangements for a camp hunt. We took provisions intending to stay two or three nights. We made our way toward the head of Lentz Branch intending to camp right at the Indian passwayâalthough the Indians were still very troublesome. We were riding leisurely along in couples, about eight miles from home and near our destination. Perry was entertaining us with accounts of his numerous adventures among Indians on the Brazos, and we were all very much interested. No matter how absorbed or entertained I might be, however, I was always on the alert and wide-awake in the woods, though I would go, whatever dangers awaited me. In the midst of Perryâs narrative, on looking to my left, I saw an Indian walking in the long grass, about two hundred yards off. I saw him just as a brush intervened, and rode up fast thinking to see him better, at the same time exclaiming, âYonderâs an Indian, now!â When we came past the brush, no Indian could be found. Seeing us, he had evidently crouched in the high grass, and my friends naturally argued that I was mistaken. I could have sworn if necessary that I saw an Indian and I would not go another step until we went over on the hill, and looked into the matter. We felt equal to a small force, so we planned what to do and primed our guns. We rode abreast looking cautiously around as we went.
Soon we saw dark red objects on the side of the hill, lying perfectly still in the grass. I pointed them out, at the same time declaring them to be Indians. No, they said it was a clump of red rocks. I knew the hill, however, and was certain no red rocks lay there. Then they agreed it was some red hogs belonging to Mrs. Lentz; still I was sure they were Indians. We still advanced slowly upon them and were insixty yards of them when our dogs sniffed in that direction and barked. Still my companions were unconvinced.
Suddenly William Barton said, âSomething moved!ââand almost instantly the red rocks were seen to be Indians, who fired upon us; the blaze of their guns seeming to almost touch us. The hill seemed to be fairly alive with their moving bodies, thirty or forty warriors rushed upon us. We ran for dear life, but Henry Lentz, who was carrying our provisions on a slow mule, came very near being caught. His mule ran off, or shied to one side and would not go, till the Indians were almost ready to grab him. We advised him to throw off the pack, which he did, whereupon the animal took fright, and such running as it did is seldom seen! After a run of two hundred yards, we saw that none of them were riding and felt more secure. I proposed to turn and fire upon them, and wheeled my horse to shoot. I saw them coming in a string, whooping and yelling. Mr. Perry said, âDonât shoot! Theyâll return the fire and cripple our horses, then we will be caught for sure!â I took his advice and hurrying on we went to Bastrop that night to raise men to follow the Indians.
Next morning, twenty-five men were on the ground, finding a tomahawk, a knife, and a broken bowstringâsigns which the Indians had leftâas well as a plain trail leading to their old passway. In four miles we found where they had cooked and eaten our provisions, and must have spent the night. It was no trouble to follow them, as they seemed to have gone without fear, taking no pains to conceal their route. We got so near them that our horses would sniff and snort, and our hound barked, which probably caused the Indians to scatter, for immediately we lost our plain trail. According to their custom of perplexing their pursuers they separated and we found it impossible to go farther, so at nightfall we turned back for home, tired and disappointed.
Their raids were constant, and in this same spring occurredone which brought quite an interesting little adventure
In the spring of 1842, William Perry, Henry Lentz, William Barton, and myself made arrangements for a camp hunt. We took provisions intending to stay two or three nights. We made our way toward the head of Lentz Branch intending to camp right at the Indian passwayâalthough the Indians were still very troublesome. We were riding leisurely along in couples, about eight miles from home and near our destination. Perry was entertaining us with accounts of his numerous adventures among Indians on the Brazos, and we were all very much interested. No matter how absorbed or entertained I might be, however, I was always on the alert and wide-awake in the woods, though I would go, whatever dangers awaited me. In the midst of Perryâs narrative, on looking to my left, I saw an Indian walking in the long grass, about two hundred yards off. I saw him just as a brush intervened, and rode up fast thinking to see him better, at the same time exclaiming, âYonderâs an Indian, now!â When we came past the brush, no Indian could be found. Seeing us, he had evidently crouched in the high grass, and my friends naturally argued that I was mistaken. I could have sworn if necessary that I saw an Indian and I would not go another step until we went over on the hill, and looked into the matter. We felt equal to a small force, so we planned what to do and primed our guns. We rode abreast looking cautiously around as we went.
Soon we saw dark red objects on the side of the hill, lying perfectly still in the grass. I pointed them out, at the same time declaring them to be Indians. No, they said it was a clump of red rocks. I knew the hill, however, and was certain no red rocks lay there. Then they agreed it was some red hogs belonging to Mrs. Lentz; still I was sure they were Indians. We still advanced slowly upon them and were insixty yards of them when our dogs sniffed in that direction and barked. Still my companions were unconvinced.
Suddenly William Barton said, âSomething moved!ââand almost instantly the red rocks were seen to be Indians, who fired upon us; the blaze of their guns seeming to almost touch us. The hill seemed to be fairly alive with their moving bodies, thirty or forty warriors rushed upon us. We ran for dear life, but Henry Lentz, who was carrying our provisions on a slow mule, came very near being caught. His mule ran off, or shied to one side and would not go, till the Indians were almost ready to grab him. We advised him to throw off the pack, which he did, whereupon the animal took fright, and such running as it did is seldom seen! After a run of two hundred yards, we saw that none of them were riding and felt more secure. I proposed to turn and fire upon them, and wheeled my horse to shoot. I saw them coming in a string, whooping and yelling. Mr. Perry said, âDonât shoot! Theyâll return the fire and cripple our horses, then we will be caught for sure!â I took his advice and hurrying on we went to Bastrop that night to raise men to follow the Indians.
Next morning, twenty-five men were on the ground, finding a tomahawk, a knife, and a broken bowstringâsigns which the Indians had leftâas well as a plain trail leading to their old passway. In four miles we found where they had cooked and eaten our provisions, and must have spent the night. It was no trouble to follow them, as they seemed to have gone without fear, taking no pains to conceal their route. We got so near them that our horses would sniff and snort, and our hound barked, which probably caused the Indians to scatter, for immediately we lost our plain trail. According to their custom of perplexing their pursuers they separated and we found it impossible to go farther, so at nightfall we turned back for home, tired and disappointed.
Their raids were constant, and in this same spring occurredone which brought quite an interesting little adventure