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Authors: John Holmes Jenkins
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into my own personal experience. About midnight I was awakened by the running of our cattle and the snorting of a wild mule, which we had left out, having put our horses in the stable. It was a freezing night, but without stopping to dress, I took my gun and slipped out to the stable to guard the horses. I sat there some time, till nearly frozen. I could see no Indians, nor sign of Indians, except an occasional disturbance among the cattle. I went into the house, dressed myself, kindled a little fire, and awoke my younger brother, William,* then about fourteen years old. Taking a gun apiece, we went out together.
We started across the truck patch, taking a short cut to the fence, then remembering how well Indians could hide in the long thick grass lining the fence corners, we left the fence about fifty yards to our left all around. My dog was with us, and we kept him very near us all the time. On looking around once, I saw a dark object between us and the house, but concluded it was the mule. In an instant, however, I saw the unmistakable form of a man step toward the fence. I tried to cock my gun, but it would not stand. I then pulled the hammer back and it fired clear. Thinking the Indians would run at this, I raised a regular Indian war whoop. About six men rose from the grass in the fence corners, and with an answering yell, rushed upon us. Seeing the odds, and bidding William to follow me, I broke for the house.
My dog, âGeneral Cos,â running into the thick of the crowd, must have troubled them, for he was cut in two places. The Indians were evidently trying to cut us off from the house, which I think âGeneral Cosâ prevented.
In an instant I looked back and saw William snapping his gun at them. There was a large thicket nearby, and I told him to hide in that, while I, taking my derringer, went toward the house, and when about eighteen steps from the Indians,I exerted by lungs to the utmost in another loud and prolonged yell, firing into their midst, whereupon they stopped, and I ran between them and the house, at the same time calling for William to follow. I thought of reloading, but found I had left all my ammunition in the house when I went in to get warm. I then snatched his gun and tried to fire it, but no use, three snaps and no discharge. We went in, and reloading, expected an attack upon the house every minute. They were making every imaginable noiseâcrying, whooping, and yelling.
Bob Pace, who was working at Motherâs, and I got our horses and prepared to follow the Indians and to notify our neighbors. They were evidently carrying off their dead warrior, whom I was confident I had killed, and hearing our horsesâ feet, they dropped the body in the long grass, where he was afterward found.
Five or six men were at the scene of disturbance early the next morning. Upon a thorough examination of the ground there was nothing to be found except a tin cup, with its buckskin string cut by a bullet, and some wool from an Indian blanketânot one sign of blood. The sage grass was shoulder high and, of course, it was a matter of some difficulty to trail or trace anything. We struck a trail of four Indians, but in four miles came to a gravel ridge and lost the trail, then came home once more after a fruitless search.
The next morning Mother and I went to old Comanche 14 at the mouth of Onion Creek for a wagon, which she had ordered made. We spent the night at Mr. Collingsworthâs, the wagonmaker. There had been so much horse stealing that we took every precaution to secure our horses. They were tied in the chimney corner, while Mr. Collingsworthslept with his bed by the window, where he could see and hear any attempt that might be made to take them. I am clear of superstition, but I had a dream that night which was fully corroborated by subsequent events. About midnight I dreamed that Indians had stolen our horses. So vivid and plain did it seem that I woke Judge Smith, with whom
We started across the truck patch, taking a short cut to the fence, then remembering how well Indians could hide in the long thick grass lining the fence corners, we left the fence about fifty yards to our left all around. My dog was with us, and we kept him very near us all the time. On looking around once, I saw a dark object between us and the house, but concluded it was the mule. In an instant, however, I saw the unmistakable form of a man step toward the fence. I tried to cock my gun, but it would not stand. I then pulled the hammer back and it fired clear. Thinking the Indians would run at this, I raised a regular Indian war whoop. About six men rose from the grass in the fence corners, and with an answering yell, rushed upon us. Seeing the odds, and bidding William to follow me, I broke for the house.
My dog, âGeneral Cos,â running into the thick of the crowd, must have troubled them, for he was cut in two places. The Indians were evidently trying to cut us off from the house, which I think âGeneral Cosâ prevented.
In an instant I looked back and saw William snapping his gun at them. There was a large thicket nearby, and I told him to hide in that, while I, taking my derringer, went toward the house, and when about eighteen steps from the Indians,I exerted by lungs to the utmost in another loud and prolonged yell, firing into their midst, whereupon they stopped, and I ran between them and the house, at the same time calling for William to follow. I thought of reloading, but found I had left all my ammunition in the house when I went in to get warm. I then snatched his gun and tried to fire it, but no use, three snaps and no discharge. We went in, and reloading, expected an attack upon the house every minute. They were making every imaginable noiseâcrying, whooping, and yelling.
Bob Pace, who was working at Motherâs, and I got our horses and prepared to follow the Indians and to notify our neighbors. They were evidently carrying off their dead warrior, whom I was confident I had killed, and hearing our horsesâ feet, they dropped the body in the long grass, where he was afterward found.
Five or six men were at the scene of disturbance early the next morning. Upon a thorough examination of the ground there was nothing to be found except a tin cup, with its buckskin string cut by a bullet, and some wool from an Indian blanketânot one sign of blood. The sage grass was shoulder high and, of course, it was a matter of some difficulty to trail or trace anything. We struck a trail of four Indians, but in four miles came to a gravel ridge and lost the trail, then came home once more after a fruitless search.
The next morning Mother and I went to old Comanche 14 at the mouth of Onion Creek for a wagon, which she had ordered made. We spent the night at Mr. Collingsworthâs, the wagonmaker. There had been so much horse stealing that we took every precaution to secure our horses. They were tied in the chimney corner, while Mr. Collingsworthslept with his bed by the window, where he could see and hear any attempt that might be made to take them. I am clear of superstition, but I had a dream that night which was fully corroborated by subsequent events. About midnight I dreamed that Indians had stolen our horses. So vivid and plain did it seem that I woke Judge Smith, with whom
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