Lone Wolf's Revenge Raid
The following story is from the book, The Men Who Wear
the Star, by Charles M. Robinson, III. Over the last decade, this
young historian has authored engaging and informative works dealing
with this region's history including Bad Hand, Satanta
and The Men Who Wear The Star. It is because of the exceptional
readability of his piece covering this famous fight that it is offered
Jones, with an escort of about twenty-five men, arrived
at the headquarters of Capt. G. W. Stevens's Company B, at the old
Ranger post of Fort Murrah, on June 10. The following day he ordered
the entire company to move about ten miles east to Salt Creek, where
the grass and water were better. There they received word that a band
of Comanches had attacked and killed a cowboy named Heath at Oliver
Loving's corral, and tracks were plainly visible.
Gui-tain, nephew of Chief Lone Wolf
Photo from the book, Carbine & Lance, The Story of Old Fort Sill,
by Colonel W. S. Nye; Copyright © 1937 by the University of Oklahoma
Press. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
The next morning Jones sent a scouting detail consisting
of two men from his own escort along with two from Stevens's company
under the command of Lt. Tom Wilson. They reported a large trail heading
southeast, out toward the dangerous Salt Creek Prairie. Jones broke
camp immediately, taking Stevens, Wilson, and thirty-three members
of the battalion to follow the trail. The group also probably included
several volunteers drawn from Loving's cowboys. Unknown to the Rangers,
however, this was not the trail of the Comanches who had hit Loving's
corral-it belonged to a much larger party of about fifty Kiowas, including
some of that nation's greatest warriors. It was a murder raid, organized
by Paramount Chief Lone Wolf to avenge the deaths of his favorite
son and nephew, both killed the year before in a fight with federal
cavalry in south Texas. The party was led by Maman-ti, the wily and
gifted medicine man responsible for the most successful Kiowa raids.
Before leaving the Indian Territory, Maman-ti had consulted his oracles
and predicted a successful expedition in which at least one white
would die without any losses to the Kiowas. None of the warriors had
any reason to doubt him.
The Salt Creek Prairie, isolated but well traveled,
had always been good raiding ground for the Kiowas. Almost as soon
as they came out onto the prairie, they jumped four cowboys, but the
cowboys, mounted on fresh horses, escaped; the Kiowa ponies, exhausted
by the long trip from Oklahoma, were unable to keep up. The failure
to take the cowboys, along with the incredible, windswept loneliness
of the prairie, discouraged some of the younger warriors. Sitting
on a hill overlooking the valley, they began muttering among themselves,
and Lone Wolf gave them a dressing-down.
"Don't be scared," he commanded. "If
any Texans come and chase us, don't be afraid. Be brave. Let's try
and kill some of them. That's what we came here for."
At that moment, one warrior spotted the glint of the
sun on metal off in the distance, a sign more whites were coming.
Maman-ti led them along the ridge where they could get a better view
and saw a large party of well-armed men, all wearing white hats.
The Rangers had already followed the trail some fifteen
miles. Now it was very fresh, and they estimated at least fifty warriors.
They found where the Indians had stopped to water their horses, and
where they had killed and roasted some cattle. They rode past the
rough monument that soldiers had erected over the mass grave of the
teamsters massacred during Sherman's 1871 visit, and but lost the
trail as it led into rough and rocky ground approaching the hill.
Some of the younger, more inexperienced men rode ahead to find it
As the Rangers continued into Lost Valley, expecting
to see the Indians ahead on the open plain, the Kiowas backtracked,
crossing the Ranger trail and circling around above them, keeping
under the cover of the hills. Maman-ti had worked out a trap. He concealed
most of the Kiowas in a gorge in the hills, then he and another warrior
rode down into the valley and dismounted to lead their horses where
they would be in plain view. Spotting them, Jones led his men straight
into the snare as the other warriors charged out from among the boulders
and mesquite thickets. The major held his men together as the Indians
circled. Ranger Lee Corn received a gunshot wound that broke his shoulder
and nearly took off his arm. Separated from the rest, he managed to
crawl into the brush and hide. Another Ranger named Wheeler stayed
with him and helped bandage the arm. Most of the Rangers were caught
in the open, and Stevens told Jones, "Major, we will have to
get to cover somewhere or all be killed."
Jones ordered a charge that broke through the Indian
line, and the Rangers managed to get into a thicket in a gully but
were cut off from water. Several had lost their horses in the charge,
and Ranger George Moore had a flesh wound in the lower leg. William
"Billy" Glass was shot down and left for dead. The Indians,
Jones noted, "are all well armed with improved breech loading
guns (they used no arrows in the fight) all well mounted, and painted,
and deck [sic] out in gay and fantastic style." There was no
question in his mind that they were out for blood.
The two sides began sniping at each other, with Billy
Glass lying out on the plain between them. Terrified of what would
happen if he was captured alive, he called out, "Don't let them
get me. Won't some of you fellows help?" The Rangers responded
with a heavy covering fire while three men dashed out and brought
The Indians were making trouble along a ridge to the
rear, and Rangers William Lewis and Walter Robertson volunteered to
hold that position while the others held the front. Jones took them
to find the best spot, and as they settled down he told them, "Boys,
stay here until they get you or until the fight is over."
Later, during a lull in the shooting, Lieutenant Wilson
went to see how they were doing. He was sitting under a tree fanning
himself with his hat and describing the Kiowas in the strongest Anglo-Saxon
terms when Lewis said, "Lieutenant you ought not to swear like
that. Don't you know that you might be killed at any minute?"
"That is just so, boys," Wilson agreed and
became quiet. A few minutes later, a Kiowa bullet cut a limb overhead,
bringing it down on the lieutenant's bare head. As the blood poured
down, he momentarily thought he had been shot. A later examination
of the tree showed it had been shot to pieces on the side facing the
The Kiowas, meanwhile, were settling down for a siege.
In a murder raid, the purpose was enemy scalps with no losses to their
own side, and they were taking no unnecessary chances. The day was
hot and the Rangers were about a mile from the nearest water. The
Indians decided to wait them out. None of their own had been hurt.
The wounded whites were calling for water, but Jones had forbidden
anyone to try to reach the creek. Finally, as the sun began to go
down and the firing slacked, Ranger Mel Porter said, "I'm going
for water, if I get killed."
"And I'm with you," David Bailey replied.
They mounted and dashed for the creek. The others could
see Bailey sitting on his horse by the bank keeping lookout while
Porter filled the canteens. Suddenly, about twenty-five Indians moved
in on them. The Rangers in the gully tried to signal by firing their
guns, and Bailey shouted for Porter to flee. The two men took off
in different directions.
Porter was caught by two warriors near the water hole.
Keeping his nerve, he fired at them until his pistol was empty, then
threw it at one of the warriors. Using his lance, the warrior levered
Porter off his horse, but before he could kill him, firing from the
injured Lee Corn and Wheeler drove off the two Indians. They were
content to take Porter's horse, while the Ranger dove into the creek
and swam underwater until he came up by Corn and Wheeler. They stayed
together until after dark, when they made their way to Loving's ranch.
Bailey was cut off, surrounded, and levered off his horse with a lance.
Lone Wolf himself chopped his head to pieces with his brass hatchet-pipe,
then disemboweled him.
The Kiowas were satisfied. They had killed at least
one Ranger (actually two, because Billy Glass had died), and they
began to leave. The badly mauled Rangers tied Glass's body to a horse
and rode back to Loving's ranch. The Kiowas did not admit to any losses,
although Jones claimed at least three had been killed. Glass was buried
at Loving's ranch. About 3 A.M. the next day, they returned to Lost
Valley under cover of darkness and recovered Bailey's horribly mutilated
body. At sunup, a detachment of cavalry arrived from Fort Richardson,
and the Rangers and soldiers spent the rest of the day looking for
the Indian trail before the Rangers returned to camp.
Continuing his inspection tour after the Lost Valley
fight, Jones came to Camp Eureka on the Big Wichita River, where he
found Capt. E. F. Ikard's Company C "too far out to render the
most effect service" and ordered it into closer proximity to
Stevens, so the two companies could come together in an emergency.
Meanwhile, scouting parties from both Ikard's and Stevens's companies
were in the field, keeping pressure on the Indians, and a party from
Company C had actually raided a camp and captured forty-three horses
and mules, some of which were claimed by citizens from whom they had
The following illuminating observations of the 1874 Rangers
from Robinson's, The Men Who Wear the Star, demonstrates his
typically wonderful research.
Heavily armed Rangers of Capt. Dan Roberts's Company
(Photo from the book, The Men Who Wear The Star, by Charles M. Robinson,
Wife of Captain Dan Roberts recalls Ranger camp near Menard:
The Rangers required only a few days to prepare quarters for us. About
fifty yards from their camp stood a portion of a camp house. It had
a shingle roof and a rock floor. It was converted into a kitchen,
size twenty feet by twenty feet. Gunny sacks were tacked upon the
walls. For our bedroom the Rangers built a room of logs with walls
three feet high, on top of which they put a tent. It was provided
with a fireplace built of stone. The floor was carpeted with gunny
sacks. The kitchen also served as a storeroom. It was all so cozy.
H. H. McConnell Fort Richardson Cavalryman observes Rangers
These Rangers were tolerable Indian fighters, but most of their time
was occupied in terrorizing the citizens and "taking in the town."
Shooting scrapes and rows between citizens, soldiers and Rangers in
this year (1874) were so frequent that the long suffering citizens
by their votes "incorporated."
Jones reports frontier conditions, 1874:
scouting for Indians, the battalion has rendered much
service to the frontier people by breaking up bands of outlaws and
desperadoes who had established themselves in these thirty settled
Counties [patrolled by the Rangers], where they could depredate upon
the property of good citizens, secure from arrest by the ordinary
process of law, and by arresting and turning over to the proper civil
authorities many cattle and horse thieves, and other fugitives from
Although the force is too small and the appropriation
insufficient to give anything like adequate protection to so large
a territory, the people seem to think we have rendered valuable service
to them, and there is a degree of security felt in the frontier counties,
that has not been exhibited [or] experienced for years before.
The following story is from the book, The West Texas
Frontier, by Joseph Carroll McConnell.
After the preceding engagement at the Adobe Walls, the
bloodthirsty warriors broke into several bands. One group went into
New Mexico and raided in that section. Another went north. Still another
group took a southern course. And Lone Wolf with approximately one
hundred and fifty favorite warriors came to Jack County to pilfer,
plunder and prey upon the people. The results of his extended foray,
no doubt, would have been most disastrous and resulted in the death
of many frontiersmen had he not accidentally encountered Major John
B. Johnes and his rangers, who more than satisfied the Indian's thirst
Lone Wolf and his warriors made their first appearance
when they charged James C. Loving, W. C. Hunt, I. G. Newcomb, and
Shad Damron, then riding the range on Salt Creek Prairie, about three
miles southwest of the present town of Jermyn, and not a great distance
from the line of Jack and Young County. Loving and his men, instead
of running toward the ranch, as the Indians, no doubt, expected, dashed
to the west, and succeeded in reaching the roughs. In a short time,
the savages were circling for the citizens trail, no unlike, and as
industriously as trained dogs, trying to locate the tracks of a lost
deer. No doubt, the Indians would have found them, but about this
time they had other problems to solve.
Major John B. Jones, of the Frontier Battalion, just
happened to be in the vicinity, for he was making a tour of inspection
of his frontier troops, stationed from the Rio Grande to Red River.
The Major was visiting the camp of Capt. Geo. Stephens. Lt. Tom Wilson,
of Palo Pinto County, W. W. Lewis, who now lives in Menard, Walter
Robinson, of Uvalde County, and others, were apart of Major Jno. B.
Jones' escort. When these rangers, about thirty-five in number, received
word the savages were on a raid, Maj. Jones ordered a detachment of
about six scouts to ascertain, if possible, the movements and whereabouts
of the Indians, thought to number about twelve. W. W. Lewis and Walter
Robinson were among these scouts. When they reported in a short time,
the rangers were on the warrior's trail, and finally overtook them
just before noon, in the Lost Valley country, not a great distance
from the present town of Jermyn.
Only a small detachment of the Indians were encountered
at first. These Indians, no doubt, were attempting to decoy the Texans
into a trap. At first a running fight followed, but in a short time,
when the Indians were reinforced by Lone Wolf and his main band of
warriors, Major John B. Jones ordered his men to retreat into a ravine,
and to protect their horses as much as possible. About this time,
the major also told his men they had come to fight Indians, and not
run horses. Some of the ponies were sheltered in a ravine, and others
tied in a cluster of pecan timber. Major Jones divided his men into
two divisions so they could strike the Indians from different angles.
In a short time, the rangers were completely surrounded, and as usual,
Lone Wolf and his 150 warriors fought mostly from their steeds. For
about four or five hours, the fight was stubbornly fought. During
the most intense fighting an Indian's gun hit a tree above Lt. Tom
Wilson, and when limbs and bark fell, Mr. Wilson, father of U.S.
District Judge, James C. Wilson, Horace Wilson, and Mrs. Dr. J. H.
McCracken, replied, "Now, by golly! I'm shot!" But he soon
discovered his mistake and enjoyed the joke with others.
During the fighting, Billy Glass was mortally wounded,
and lay on the ground, a short distance from the ravine where his
companions were entrenched. At first, the rangers thought he was dead,
but when Billy moved, Zack Waddel ran through the shower of bullets
and carried Billy Glass, his wounded companion, into the entrenchment.
Later on in the evening, when Billy Glass was calling for water, Dan
Bailey and Porter, mounted some fast steeds, and dashed to a nearby
creek. But since Porter was narrow-sighted, several Indians were upon
them before their presence was known. Porter successfully reached
the main command, but Dan Bailey was killed.
During the day, Lee Corn was also wounded by an Indian
spy. The Indians succeeded in killing about eighteen horses, but several
of their own steeds were shot down. It is not known just what were
the Indians' casualties, but a large number were wounded.
A runner was sent to Jacksboro for relief, but when
the soldiers arrived the next day, the Indians had been gone for several
hours. For as usual, they withdrew late in the evening. After the
Indians were gone, the rangers carried their dead and wounded to J.
C. Loving's Ranch.
Note: Author personally interviewed: W. W. Lewis, mentioned
above; Oliver Loving, a son of James C. Loving; E. W. McCracken; and
several others, who lived in Jack County and elsewhere at the time.
Further Ref.: Tex. Ind. Fighters, A. J. Sowell.
Walter M. Robinson, a surviving participant of the fight,
provided details of the action from the Rangers point of view.
The Lost Valley in Jack County provided
the scene for the battle on July 12, 1874, between the Texas Rangers,
thirty-five in number, commanded by Major John B. Jones and Captain
Stephens, and 200 Comanche and Kiowa Indians, led by Chief Lone
Wolf. The battle waged on for five hours. On the day before
the battle Major Jones, who commanded all of the rangers on the frontier,
and who traveled from post to post arrived at the camp of Captain
Stephens, in command of a ranger force stationed in Jack County, located
northwest from Jacksboro about fifty or sixty miles. On July the 12th
a report came to Captain Stephens that Indians inhabited the country,
and the captain deployed Lieutenant Wilson along with six men to take
a scout into the vicinity which Indians reportedly occupied and complete
an investigation. Walter Robinson, a member of Capt. Rufe Perrys
company, was one of the members of this scouting party. The detail
proceeded about six miles and came upon a large Indian trail which
denoted a raiding band of Indians of unusually large force, and a
runner was sent back to camp by the lieutenant to inform Major Jones
and Captain Stephens of these facts, and advising a force to be sent
out of all the men that could be spared from camp to take up the trail
of the Indians and give them battle in case they could be overtaken.
In the meantime, while the messenger was speeding on his mission,
Lieutenant Wilson and the other five men followed slowly on the trail,
and in about twelve miles Major Jones and Captain Stephens along with
thirty men, overtook them, making the ranger force now about thirty-five
The combined force now kept on the trail rapidly until
twenty minutes before 12 oclock a.m., whence they came upon
the Indians in a timbered but rough and rocky country of the Lost
Creek Valley. The Comanches and Kiowas placed their force in ambush
to evade the rangers whom they discovered on their trail. Before doing
this, however, the wily chief divided his force into three bands and
crossed and recrossed Lost Creek several times on purpose to disconcert
and bother the rangers and cause them to scatter their force in pursuit.
Finally he consolidated his whole force in a mott of timber on the
west side of the creek. Before locating the Indians Major Jones divided
his force into three squads to follow as many different trails, but
cautioned each party to remain in touch with each other and be ready
at any moment to reunite in case of an emergency. The major with thirteen
men went to the right and skirted around the foot of some hills and
came in close range of the timber which concealed the whole Indian
force. The natives fired on them, which was the first intimation he
had of their presence. This volley wounded some horses, and on its
heels came the charge. The Indians left cover and attacked Major Jones
with great fury in the open prairie, but he stood his ground and the
gallant squad around him opened up a hot fire from the their Winchesters
into the very faces of the yelling and advancing natives. The other
two parties of the ranger force rushed to the scene of the fierce
fight, and the main battle opened with terrific fury on both sides.
The yelling of the Indians almost drowned the noise of the carbines,
which popped and cracked like a canebrake afire. A few moments later,
a bullet wounded Lee Corn and killed his horse. The rangers made a
sweeping charge through the Indians, who were thickly massed. Their
rapid and fatal fire both with revolvers and Winchesters forced the
Comanches and Kiowas to give way. The Indians started to rapidly flee
through the open ground towards the hills, followed by the now yelling
rangers. The warriors passed about a mile of skirted timber, in which
a ravine made by washings from the hills, made travel difficult. However
the Indians crossed this and kept traveling through an open glade
for a hundred yards or more, and then made a stand on the side of
the hill amid rocks and bushes. They opened fire on the rangers from
cover, which checked them, and they wheeled back to the ravine and
there dismounted. During this fire from the Indians the horse ridden
by Walter Robinson was killed, being hit by five bullets, and he went
back to the ditch on foot. A gallant young ranger of Stephens
company named Glass was killed, falling in front before the turn back
was made. The natives also injured a ranger named Moore. The ravine
or ditch was shallow, and while the rangers to some extent could protect
themselves by lying down, it was not sufficient to cover the horses,
and they were hit repeatedly. The Indians swarmed the sides of the
hills yelling and shooting, and some of them gradually worked around
the rangers and shot at them from various other points. This gallant
little band, however, worthy of the name of Texas Rangers, were not
dismayed, but would raise their heads above the ravine, take aim at
some particular target, fire, and down again to adjust another charge,
at the same time shouting defiance to their dusky foes. In about twenty
minutes after the ravine was reached Zack Waddell noticed that ranger
Glass, whom they thought dead, was kicking about on the ground, and
expressed his intention of making a run and bringing him into the
ravine. Even the officers tried to dissuade the man because the act
seemed tantamount to suicide. But Waddell had his eye on his friend,
and all at once leaped out of the ditch and ran rapidly to him, gathered
him up in his arms, and started back amid a perfect shower of bullets
and demoniac yells of the Indians, and the rangers in the ditch sprang
to their feet, regardless of exposure, returned yell for yell and
shot for shot with the Indians, and loudly cheered their gallant comrade,
who came staggering in with wounds and his burden. He was hit with
five bullets, but none inflicted serious wounds, and one of his boots
was nearly shot off of his foot, so much so that he could hardly keep
it on. Poor Glass never spoke, but lay there and breathed awhile,
and then died there in the ravine with his comrades around him, with
the noise of cracking carbines, whistling bullets, and savage yells
in his dying ears.
The following story is from the book, Carbine & Lance,
The Story of Old Fort Sill, by Colonel W. S. Nye; Copyright © 1937
by the University of Oklahoma Press. Reprinted by permission. All rights
Hunting Horse describes the fight from the point
of view of the Kiowas: When we made our first charge the white
men stopped and began firing at us. The bullets went Chu! Chu! Soon
the enemy charged at us. We rode south in great haste. Red Otters
horse was hit, and sat down suddenly and began to scream in pain.
Red Otter slid off neatly, and with his red cape streaming from his
hand commenced dodging around to escape the bullets. I thought the
whites had him, but Set-kop-te (Paual Saitkopte) galloped up to him,
reached down a hand, and pulled him up behind. They got away safely.
We all rode south through the valley. I was on
an old grey plug, which lagged far behind. I thought they would catch
me sure. One white man, riding a fine big black horse, was following
us close, making it hot for us. He was way out by himself. Maybe he
didn't know his friends were so far behind. Or maybe his horse was
running away. Presently we reached the shelter of the wooded ridge,
where we stopped and commenced firing back at the enemy. Tsen-au-sain
dismounted, took a careful aim at the man on the black horse, and
shot him off. The man went limping into the brush to the east.
We could see the leader of the whites motioning
his men to fall back. One of them was slow. Tsen-au-sain shot him
down. I got one, shouted Tsen-au-sain, Everybody
But nobody was able to touch the fallen enemy
to make coup. We had to make coup or the revenge would not be complete.
We could see the man lying there in plain sight. The heads of the
other rangers could be seen sticking up from a dry stream bed. Nobody
dared go close enough to make coup.
Red Otter got desperate. He called for volunteers.
Not a warrior spoke up. I remembered the prophecy of the medicine
man. It was my chance. I said I would go with Red Otter. Red Otter
ran forward and took position behind a large tree. He signaled for
me to join him. I ran forward and crouched behind the tree. The bullets
were throwing the bark in our faces. Then we ran to another tree.
But the bullets came thicker. Red Otter said it was too dangerous.
We ran back behind the hill.
The trench where the rangers were hidden was so
far away that I couldnt reach it with arrows. Only the men who
had guns stayed out in front and kept firing at the enemy. They could
see the rangers horses tied in the mesquite. They killed most
Only short intermissions interrupted the battle for
nearly five hours. The Indians were well armed, and the balls were
almost constantly kicking up the dust around the margin of the ravine
or hitting rocks and sending showers of scattered lead among the rangers.
Some of the Indians went around the head of the ravine, surrounding
the rangers and cutting off Lee Corn and Wheeler along with two others
who stayed with Corn when natives wounded him and killed his horse.
Retreat into the rank grass, bushes, mud and water of the creekbed
became inevitable. The rangers fighting the battle in the dry ravine
suffered greatly for water, remaining five hours with the hot July
sun beaming down on them. Their tongues swelled, and their thirst
drove them to dig beds in the ravine their Bowie knives to gather
moist dirt which they sucked between their parched lips. During all
of this time Major Jones exposed himself greatly and made several
narrow escapes. Once he left the ravine and went to a tree and was
watching the chief Lone Wolf to see if he could tell from his actions
what his intentions were or what his next move would be. Captain Stephens
also encouraged the boys by word and example to spare their arms.
While Major Jones was watching Lone Wolf he sat down and leaned against
the tree, with the balls occasionally skipping around him, and Walter
Robinson and Flint Damon said, Look out, major, they will hit
you directly, and about this time a hissing ball came and struck
the tree near the majors head, filling his eyes and face full
of bark and splinters, and with such force that he fell backwards
on the ground as if killed, but quickly recovered himself.
Hunting Horse continues:
As the day grew shorter it looked as though we
were not going to be able to get any of the whites. Finally Maman-ti
made a new plan. Weve got to cheat those fellows,
he said. We know they will have to go for water soon. So we
will pretend to go away, but will leave some men, with the fastest
horses, near the water hole. They can charge the whites when they
come for water.
So we rode slowly north, keeping out of sight
behind the ridge, until we crossed the dry creek bed above the water
hole. A big bunch remained here, hidden in the timber to watch for
the enemy. The rest rode toward the hills which lie north of the creek.
Some of us felt thirsty. Tahbone-mah and Quo-to-tai started back to
get a drink. I was just going to join them, when somebody called,
Come back quick! Two of them are going for water now! Tahbone-mah
and Quo-to-tai hid in the trees along the stream.
About one hour by sun some of the rangers expressed
a determination to leave the ravine in spite of the Indians and go
to Lost Creek after water, but all were persuaded out of this notion
except two, Bailey and Porter, and they mounted their horses and rode
off. Two hundred yards from the ravine the Indians ran upon them and
killed Bailey in plain view of his companions. His mare, though fleet,
failed to run when the Indians drew near and reared and plunged until
they shot and lanced her unfortunate rider from her back. Porter had
better luck, but narrowly escaped with his life. The Indians drove
him into the creek, with the cry of one Indian behind him saying,
Me git you! Me git you! in broken English as he went over
the edge of the creekbed. The place Porter went over was close to
the spot where Lee Corn was hiding; Porter, thinking an Indian was
hunting him, shot at him as he hit the mud and water a few yards away,
but fortunately missed due to an arm injury. In throwing the cartridge
from the magazine into the barrel held the gun between his knees.
When night came the rangers back at the ravine were in a terrible
strait, and a council was held to determine what was best to do. They
were nearly exhausted with thirst and strain and shock of the battle,
ammunition nearly all gone, dead and wounded comrades scattered here,
and fourteen dead horses besides the wounded lying around in the ditch.
The Indians had drawn off and Major Jones asked the boys what they
would rather do-remain there until daylight and renew the battle again
if the Indians did not leave, or until soldiers could come from Jacksboro
to their relief, for a ranger named John P. Holmes had ridden out
of the ravine on a wounded horse in sight of the Indians before night,
and gone to the fort where United States soldiers were quartered to
ask for assistance. After canvassing the situation thoroughly, the
rangers concluded to leave the ravine and make an attempt to get to
Jacksboro or meet the soldiers. The dead ranger, Glass, was strapped
to an Indian horse whose rider had been killed, and he dashed down
among the rangers and stayed there. When all was ready they silently
departed down the ravine, more than half of them on foot, and succeeded
in quenching their thirst at a small spring and then kept on fifteen
miles to a ranch, there remaining until the following morning at which
time they buried their dead comrade. Walter Robinson performed this
sad rite , and the others prepared to return to the battleground with
a ranch wagon to bring in the wounded. They were accompanied by a
band of rangers and a squad of soldiers who arrived at the ranch before
daylight. Gallant Holmes informed them of the treacherous situation.
Uneasiness was felt for the boys who had been left scattered in the
Lost Creek bottoms, and a hurried return was made to the place by
the rangers and soldiers, but on arriving there they found none of
their comrades. The men discovered that their peers escaped to Lovings
ranch. Baileys body lie near where the fight commenced, badly
mutilated, scalped, and full of arrows, besides numerous lance wounds.
They buried him near the spot where he met his fate, and since the
country has settled up in that locality, a schoolhouse and church
stand near his grave, or near the spot where he was killed. It was
afterwards learned that forty-two Indians were bullet-stricken during
the battle, nineteen of them dying on the field.
Hunting Horse continues:
"In a few moments two white men came riding swiftly
to the water hole. One was about fifty yards ahead of the other. The
first one, who was carrying several canteens, rode down into the creek,
out of our sight. The other remained up on the bank to watch. Soon
the Kiowas who had been ordered to charge them rushing in from the
west. The Texan on the bank rode south. The man in the creek came
out on the north side and started galloping in the opposite direction,
with Tahbone-mah and Quo-to-tai after him.
At first Quo-to-tai was in the lead, but in a
moment Tahbone-mah, who was riding a big grey-a famous racer-passed
him. The white man turned in his saddle and kept shooting at the two
Indians. He fired the last shot almost in Tahbone-mahs face,
then threw his empty pistol at Tahbone-mah. The Kiowa man dumped his
enemy off with a lance, and herded the riderless horse off on a circle
to the left. It was a fine bay, and he later gave it to me. Tahbone-mah
couldnt go back to make coup on the man he had knocked down,
because there was heavy firing coming out of the woods along the stream.
When I got to the place where they had killed
the other ranger, I learned that Dohauson had thrust him off his horse
with a spear, but that Mamaday-te had made fist coup by touching him
with his hand. Lone Wolf and Maman-ti and everybody was there. Lone
Wolf got off his horse and chopped the mans head to pieces with
his brass hatchet-pipe. Then he took out his butcher knife and cut
open the man's bowels. Everyone who wanted to shot arrows into it
or poked at it with their lances.
Presently Lone Wolf stood back to make a speech.
He said, Thank you, Oh thank you, for what has been done today.
My poor son has been paid back. His spirit is satisfied. Now listen!
It was Mamaday-te who made the first coup. Because of this, and because
he loved my son, I am going to honor him today. I am going to give
him my name. Everybody listen! Let the name of Mamaday-te stay here
on this battleground. Let the name of Mamaday-te be forgotten. From
now on call him Lone Wolf!
"After Lone Wolf had finished his talk, we all
sang a few verses of the Victory Song, then got on our horses and
Mel Porter, after he had jumped or been thrown (by Tahbone-mah)
from his horse near the water hole, dived into the creek and swam
under water. When he came up he was nearly shot by Lee Corn and Wheeler,
who thought he was an Indian. It was the fire of these two men which
had caused Tahbone-mah and Quo-to-tai to sheer off at the last moment.
The three rangers stayed in the brush until after dark, when they
made their way to Lovings Ranch. The next day Major Joness
men came back to look for Baileys body. The young Texans caught
their breath when they saw the condition it was in. They scooped out
a shallow trench in the sand.
William Glass was buried at Lovings Ranch.
The Tenth Cavalry Buffalo Soldiers, under Lieutenant
Baldwin, rode out to join Jones and his Rangers in an unsuccessful
pursuit of the raiders after word returned to Fort Richardson of the
Lost Valley Fight.
The rangers went back to Jacksboro, bought horses to
replace those killed, and then went on into the Llano country.
It is related of Lee Corn that when his horse was killed
and himself down beside him with his left arm shattered, he still
continued to work the lever of his gun, holding the barrel between
his knees to load, and firing with one hand at the Indians who were
swarming around them and yelling most fearfully, and during this time
Major Jones passed him and the young ranger looked up and says, Were
givin em hell, major. Mr. Walter Robinson, who was
one of the escort of Major Jones, and who took a prominent part in
this fearful battle, belonged to Capt. Rufe Perrys company,
and was in the Salt Creek fight in Menard County, and several others.