Lone Wolf’s Revenge Raid

Michael has a BA in History & American Studies and an MSc in American History from the University of Edinburgh. He comes from a proud military family and has spent most of his career as an educator in the Middle East and Asia. His passion is travel, and he seizes any opportunity to share his experiences in the most immersive way possible, whether at sea or on the land.

Lost Valley Fight Map

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 here.

    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 Picture

    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 again.

    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 him in.

    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 Indians.

    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 been stolen.

The following illuminating observations of the 1874 Rangers from Robinson's, The Men Who Wear the Star, demonstrates his typically wonderful research.

Capt. Dan Roberts's Ranger Company Picture

Heavily armed Rangers of Capt. Dan Roberts's Company
(Photo from the book, The Men Who Wear The Star, by Charles M. Robinson, III)

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 for war.

    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, not 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 Ranger’s 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 Perry’s 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 in sum.

    The combined force now kept on the trail rapidly until twenty minutes before 12 o’clock 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 reserved.

    …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 Otter’s 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 back now!’

    “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 couldn’t 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 of these.

Robinson continues:

    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 major’s 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. ‘We’ve 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.’

Robinson continues:

    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 Loving’s ranch. Bailey’s 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-mah’s 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 couldn’t 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 man’s 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 started home.”

Robinson continues:

    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 Loving’s Ranch. The next day Major Jones’s men came back to look for Bailey’s 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 Loving’s 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.

Robinson continues:

    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, “We’re 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 Perry’s company, and was in the Salt Creek fight in Menard County, and several others.

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