The Southwestern Historical Quarterly, Volume 75, July 1971 - April, 1972 Page: 207
566 p. : ill. (some col.), maps, ports. ; 23 cm.View a full description of this periodical.
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Notes and Documents
ley, from the fact that the buffalo were greatly disturbed and wherever
seen on the horizon north and east of us, they were running, several small
bunches having passed us during the last half hour that had certainly been
hunted. "Well, what has that to do with us?"
"Everything," I replied. "There are Indians in our front and no small
party either, for nothing else could disturb the game to such an extent."
He tried to laugh away my fears but 'twas a feeble effort. "Well," he
says, "What do you advise?"
"Caution," I replied, "and a stiff upper lip."
We had by this time crossed the divide and were nearing Sweetwater
Creek, where sure enough right in front in the valley, we saw six horse-
men not more than a mile distant and, upon looking up the valley west
of us and at right angles with direction we were traveling, we saw a large
outfit of something raising a big dust. We diverged a little from our course
in order to strike a ravine that intersected the creek about a half a mile
below where we saw the six horsemen, which I well knew were Indians.
Hoping that we would escape notice under cover of the ravine, we reached
the creek, watered our horses, and quickly filled our canteens. We crossed
over the strike for the higher ground, our worst fears being verified, for
here is the fresh trail where a large party have just passed and in all
probability there are more to follow.
We reach the higher ground in safety and are about to congratulate our-
selves in not having been discovered, when lo-here they come-five of
them-with a yell and worse than all the sixth one [rode] off up the creek
in the direction of the main body. All is explained in an instant. Those
five will engage us until that devil can come with reinforcements and then
they will have a picnic. 'Tis no use to run, our horses are nearly worn out
and the country in our front is sand hills. We halt, dismount and, in sheer
desperation, I take off my hat and wave it over my head, answering back
their menace as though as eager for a scrap as they. This proved to be
the best that could have been done for it cooled their ardor and caused
them to change their minds as to riding us down and killing us like tur-
keys; for after an interchange of shots as they described a circle, they
went to cover under the hill we occupied, in the meantime going up the
creek for the assistance they expected from that quarter.
"Now," said I, "this is our chance for escape. We have given those fel-
lows a square standoff, have bluffed them out. It is now nearly night and,
if we can elude that other party for two hours more, we're all right."
Mounting our horses we move off northeast through the sand hills as
fast as our poor horses could admit of. We manage to keep under cover
for about four miles. We emerge from the sand hills onto the higher
ground where we can look around in either direction for miles. Looking
back, we saw a party of at least fifty coming up out of the Sweetwater
Valley. These were the reinforcements that the low devil had gone after,
but they are too late, for we are four miles away and the sun is down.
Night will soon throw its friendly shades around us. We jog on, however,
across the Washita and out on the divide north, until we are obliged to207
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Texas State Historical Association. The Southwestern Historical Quarterly, Volume 75, July 1971 - April, 1972, periodical, 1972; Austin, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth101201/m1/219/: accessed May 4, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu; crediting Texas State Historical Association.