In February, 1861, a band of Indians were seen going down Rush Creek, in Comanche County, in broad daylight, collecting all the horses they could find and chasing every man that came in their way.

They kept on down the creek as far as it's mouth, crossing the Leon and stealing horses belonging to Bill Stone and Gabe Ratliff  ( copier note: Colonel William Stone and his son-in-law), thence up Indian Creek, picking up more horses, and late in the evening were seen near Comanche. In the meantime a scout of five men had followed them from Rush Creek, and at Comanche they were joined by this writer. We pursued them that evening to the mountains, where we encamped for the night.

Being satisfied the Indians were near, we stopped in a clump of timber in a low place, and made no fire that night. It was fearfully cold, but being satisfied the Indians were near, we kept quite. All night we heard cows bawling just over the mountains.

Knowing the Indians loved veal, it was easy to conclude they had killid one or more, were eating them and not caring to move around that night, so we kept quite.

The following morning at daylight, we were in our saddles and on the trail. Going up a running branch, we found several head of cattle killed by the Indians, some doutless for one thing, some for another. One cow was killed, no doubt, for a bell collar; one old muley cow had been roped and scalped, then turned loose, and one steer had his tail cut off, taking two or three joints of the backbone.You can imagine how pitiful they looked.

On approaching the mountains we found the Indians had seperated. We followed the trail south and after going a few miles saw smoke issuing from a deep ravine.

Feeling satisfied the Indians were there, everything was made ready for a fight, but on approaching it was found that the Indians had left camp, together with a lot of luggage, the horses being hobbled and turned loose.

We gathered them up, went back to their camp and observed they had gone in the direction of the settlements. Gathering up some of the trinkets, we went back to the place where they seperated.

Taking the other trail and following it a few miles we found the other camp, together with all of the horses. It was then in the afternoon, and having in our possession about thirty-five head of horses, and only six of us, and a long way from the settlements, with the country full of Indians, you may rest assured there was no time lost until those horses were in the corral at Comanche.

Arriving at Comanche we learned thast Jim Tankersly was in camps at Duncan Creek, about five miles from town, with a scout of men. We dispatched word by courier to him to meet us at a ranch two miles from town early that night, for the purpose of going back to the camp where we had captured the horses, and watching until the Indians returned. But Tankersly, needing supplies, went back to town. Our scout had gone to the ranch and made up a fire back of the field, in ouder that our horses might be grazing. Early in the night men were seen by the guard coming up the valley from the direction we were expecting Tankersly to put in his appearance.

Our guard suspected they were Indians and reported the fact at once. We all sprang to our guns and watched closely. They approached to within one hundred yards of us, and then, turning to the left, gave a low whistle. On being answered they charged, but seeing that we occupied good positions they withdrew, going off in the direction of Comanche.

We being somewhat bewildered, retired to the house, and tying our horses to it, proceeded to make a fire. While some of us were warming, others were standing guard.

Tankersly, having secured the needed supplies at town, started to the ranch and in the suburbs of town met the Indians in the road, and believing them to be the scout he was to meet at the ranch was somewhat careless in approaching them until the Indians opened fire on his men, when a hot fight ensued in which two men were badly wounded—Kenneth and James McKenzie*. Kenneth died next morning and Jim survived his wounds, but was ever after an invalid. Several of the horses were killed and some of the  boys received slight wounds. My scout, being at the ranch, heard the fight at once and believing it to be at town where our women and children were, you may rest assured no time was lost. We were in our saddles in a moment and on our way to the battle ground.

We halted on the spot where the fight took place. The Indians were within fifty yards of us in a ravine, but we, thinking the fight was in town, did not discover them.

Hearing  a great deal of excitement in town we hurried on at a rapid gait, but were soon halted by Tankersly, he having his men formed in a line at the house where the women and children were gathered.

After exchanging a few words, Tankersly recognized my voice and told us to come up. We got there just as they were taking the wounded men off their horses, and such a time I never witnessed in my life. Women and children were scared speechless; some were weeping, some praying, some gesticulating one way, some another.

The Indians pulled out to the mountains, where they stopped some time. They lost two horses and three men in the fight, who died on the mountains.

I had three horses running up the creek , which I was somewhat anxious about, so the next day, after the excitement, I took my gun and six-shooter and struck out up the creek. When about two miles from town I saw a band of Indians about one mile distant, with a drove of horses and coming right toward me, and my horses in the lead. Thinking I must move and that quickly, I sought shelter in some mesquite brush until they came down the hill to the creek and got out of sight.

I knew when my time to act had come, so taking my rifle in one hand and six-shooter in the other, I lit out for a wash about three hundred yards distant in a branch, where I could conceal myself from them. You could have played with perfect safety a game of "Seven-Up" on my coat-tail while covering that three hundred yards.

I got down deep into the wash and stayed there until the Indians had passed, when I ventured to raise my head through the tall grass in time to see and count them as they turned over the ridge.

There were about thirty Indians with about thirty head of horses. They made good their escape without being molested, as we were all afoot. After they had gone over the ridge I took my traveling pins and made for home. I kept in the bed of the creek  from there to town.

At this time the situation was truly deplorable all along the line of frontier. The Indians had stolen nearly all the horses in the country, and kept on stealing and committing their barbarious acts on the whites whenever opportunities presented themselves.

Every day brought to us the sad intelligence of killing and scalping of someone or more of the settlers and of houses being attacked and robbed and women and children being carried off captives.

Truly it was a gloomy time, for neither life nor property was safe at this time. The few citizens of Comanche were forted up in three placves, to-wit: Comanche, South Leon and Cora, now extinct. Most assuredly we were in a fight. We were afoot, only a few in number, and whenever one would go out on the range he was either chased in or lost his scalp.

We remained in this condition for several weeks, the Indians still depredating us. Crop time was now approaching, and something must be done. We were without provisions and many of us without teams.

The plan agreed upon was to let our condition be known to the State authorities, which we did, but to no effect, but the good people of Bell County saw fit to help us in the way of contributions. They sent five ox teams loaded with flour to our relief, and in addition to this a party of forty men, well mounted and well armed, under the command of Captain Cox. They came to Comanche and were joined by some of our number.

We struck for the woods and scoured the country until we had driven every redskin out of it. In a few days they were in again, committing their depredations. We forthwith organized ourselves into companies and tried to protect ourselves as best we could.

We scouted by turns and that on such horses as we could pick up. Often our horses were not able to carry us, so we would walk and drive our horses with our saddles and pack. In this way we put in a great deal of our time. While some were scouting, others were at work.

During this winter and spring I was set afoot five different times by Indians stealing my horses. I lost three work-oxen killed, and about thirty head of grown hogs, all killed in two beds at one time by the redskins.

When spring opened up and the Indians were gone out of the country, I had only one ox that I could call my own. The horses were all gone, the hogs and oxen were killed, and I had abandoned home to save the life of myself and family. My situation was but a fair sample of the condition of the people on the frontier at that time. It was true we all had cattle, more or less, but they were scattered on a thousend hills. During this spring  we organized a company of our own. James Cunningham Sr., was elected Captain, and myself  First Lieutenant. We went to the woods and scouted all the spring and summer, and at our own expense, too. Such was the state of affairs on the frontier at this time.

In January, 1862, the Legislature met and passed a law for the protection of the frontier. This law provided for the raising of ten companies consisting of one hundred men to the company, each company to be divided and stationed about one day's ride apart, just above the settlements. The command of this regiment was given to Colonel J.M. Morris. Who proceeded at once to the frontier and distributed his regiment from Red River to the Rio Grande, with orders for each company to send a scout each day from one station to the other, and returning the day following.

This plan gave a patrol scout from Red River to the Rio Grande every day. Thus the scouts all left their respective camps each morning and traveled west to the next camp, returning the next day, so the entire frontier was traversed every day from Red River to the Rio Grande, and in addition to this each company kept out a flying scout all the time. The plan would appear to afford ample protection from the fact that the men who composed this regiment lived just inside the line and a more industrious and untiring set never lived in any country. Their families, which constituted their all, were sent just below for better protection.

After all our energy and industry, the Indians still continued making their raids into the settlements and committing their atrocities, some of which were so barbarous as to forbid their mention.

I belonged tp Captain F.M. Collier's company and was stationed at Camp Pecan, in Coleman County. We often encountered Indians as they came in or went out during the year that this regiment was out. Some of the engagements  we will mention hereafter. This was a busy year for both Indians and rangers. Times were lively for the space of twelve long months, as you will observe futher on.

When Norris' regiment was mustered into service, Colonel Buck Berry with four companies who had been on the Wichita doing good work, was now ordered to Fort Mason for the purpose of being mustered out of service, a party of Indians were seen coming up the country with their booty and passed near where Barry was encamped.  (Copier's note: Colonel William Stone's brothers, John Lock and Redman were members of Colonel Buck Barry's Regiment at this time.) Barry immediately went in pursuit and after a chase of twelve to fifteen miles came up with them. The Indians made fight, as usual, and abandoned all their horses except those they were riding, proceeded to give Barry all he could well attend to.

One of the Indians had on a silk dress that had belonged to a lady who had been living on the SanSaba. They had killed the whole family and this warrior was wearing the fress of his murdered victum. Captain Rogers said to Colonel Barry: "Look how vicious that damned squaw shoots those arrows." But it was soon found out that a warrior's strength was inside that dress.

Some of the Indians were killed where the fight commenced. The rest ran into a thicket and fought like demons, killing or wounding horses or men at nearly every shot. There were several men wounded in this fight and a nimber of horses killed or wounded.

Among the wounded were Sergeant Erhenback, wounded in several places; a Mr. Johnson, also wounded, and Lieutenant Nelks' lips were pinned together with an arrow. Three or four horses were killed, one of the number being Colonel Barry's horse. Three indians were killed, and another died afterwards of his wounds.
 

*Copier's footnote: Gabriel Ratliff  joined the Confederate Army and was killed in July, 1963. His daughter, ( and Colonel William Stone's granddaughter ) Malinda C. Ratliff,  married George McKenzie (in 1867), the son of Kenneth McKenzie ( killed in this attack ).