: The Scout and Ranger Being the Personal Adventures of Corporal Pike of the Fourth Ohio cavalry by Pike James - United States History Civil War 1861-1865 Personal narratives; Texas Rangers; Indians of North America Wars 1815-1875; United States History Civ

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That night we encamped on Boggy River, which, I believe, divides the lands of the Choctaws and Chickasaws. It is a very considerable stream, with broad, rich valleys, finely timbered. The land has been but little improved by labor. It was here that Johnston took it into his head to be "unlawful;" but that was the only difficulty I ever had with him.

From Boggy we traveled through a well-timbered country, occupied by the Chickasaws. It is not so mountainous as the Choctaw country, and I do not consider the people nearly so far advanced in civilization as the Choctaws, but far more docile and kind in their manners.

We crossed the Red river at Colbert's ferry, when the Colonel gave a shout of delight as he once more landed in Texas. My first impressions of the country were not pleasing. For twelve miles our way lay through a country heavily timbered and thickly interlaced with vines. A sandy soil, with, once in a while, a badly-managed farm and shabby log house, did not agree with my preconceived notions of the State; but after having traveled twelve miles, the landscape began to change. We reached high prairies, covered with luxuriant grass, and dotted with highly-cultivated plantations and beautiful groves. Immense herds of cattle were seen in every direction, and although this is not the chief grazing part of the State, there were many herds of horses, and flocks of sheep interspersed among the cattle. The soil is black and waxy, and no matter how much the roads are traveled they are never dusty, but become beaten down, like a cake of beeswax; and this species of soil extends as far south as Austin.

We passed through Sherman, a place of great commercial importance in Northern Texas, which at that time bid fair to be a large city; and the next place we reached was Dallas, celebrated for its mills which produce the best flour in Texas. The staple of the surrounding country is wheat, the soil being peculiarly adapted to its culture. Northern Texas is settled almost exclusively by people from Kentucky, Tennessee, and the West; and there is consequently more energy displayed in that section than in other portions of the State.

We reached Mr. Johnston's house, twelve miles south of Dallas, and were welcomed by his wife and daughter. They went out on the prairie to examine the stock; and as part of the horses had been represented as belonging to the estate of his wife's first husband, I naturally expected that the lady would recognize some of them, and call them by name, or otherwise particularly designate them; but to my astonishment she seemed never to have seen any of them before. I now remembered our haste, and the Colonel's unaccountable excitement at times; and I could not escape the conviction that I had helped to run off a drove of stolen horses.

As my contract was now up, the Colonel pressed me to continue with him; and his solicitations were cordially seconded by his wife and daughter; but as soon as I had secured a settlement with him, and received my money, I pushed on to Austin, where I expected to find employment as a printer.

MY FIRST INDIAN CAMPAIGN.

My expectations of finding employment as a printer, at Austin, were not realized, and I went back to Bell county, and turned my attention for a while to horse taming; but it was not long before there was found more congenial employment for me. The Kiowa, Comanche, and Kickapoo Indians suddenly began to wage a most relentless and cruel warfare upon the frontier settlements. Their first act of barbarity was committed far down in the country, within a few miles of where I was employed. About the 1st of May, 1859, a small detachment of Comanches appeared on the west side of Bell county, stole some horses, and drove a lance through the body of a little boy about twelve years of age; the act being done in the presence of an agonized mother, and of sisters frantic with grief and fear. The Indians, after mocking their terrified actions, galloped away, laughing and sneering at their agony. The neighborhood was at once aroused, and a few men went in pursuit; I, myself, constituting one of the party. The savages fled toward the mountains, at the head waters of the Colorado river; and high up on the San Gabriel, we came in sight of them; and at once the chase became so hot that the Indians "scattered,"--always their last strategic resort. We only succeeded in finding one, a gigantic fellow, who had long been known on the frontier, and was recognized by some of the pursuing party, as a famous Comanche warrior, called Big Foot. True to his own manhood, he sustained his reputation as a warrior to the very last, and ceased to resist only as he fell into the rolling waters of the San Gabriel, pierced with more than a dozen bullets from trusty Texan rifles. His body was swept away by the swift running stream; but his rifle, lance, and bow and arrows were captured, and divided out among the party as trophies. Big Foot was a giant in size and strength, being about seven feet high, and in all respects well proportioned; and his loss must have been severely felt by his tribe.

Their next outrage worthy of note, was the capture of two beautiful young ladies, named Whitson, whose persons they brutally violated. The ladies were walking home from a neighbor's house, where they had been on a visit, when they were suddenly surrounded by twenty-five savages, who committed the fearful deed already indicated, and then carried them away into a captivity a thousand times worse than death.

They lived near Weatherford, on the Brazos river, and after capturing them, the Indians carried them far out on the Staked Plains, stripped them, and left them on the open prairie, without a morsel of food, or a drop of water, and far away from any civilized habitation. When found they were lying beneath a little mesquit bush, locked in each other's arms, and quietly awaiting the approach of death. It was evident that they had been crazed by hunger, thirst, and cruel treatment, as their hands and arms were lacerated, as if they had struggled to tear the flesh from their own limbs. Luckily, we had a skillful surgeon and physician among our party, who immediately set about restoring them. We gave them liberally of our clothing and sewed blankets into skirts, so that they were soon as comfortable as could be expected. It was about two hours before sundown when we discovered them on a high plain, between the waters of the Colorado and the Double Mountain fork of the Brazos; and I do not think they could have survived more than thirty-six hours longer if left to themselves.

We started that night and went a short distance, and in the morning began our journey to the settlements in earnest. On the Clear fork of the Brazos the party separated; those of us who belonged down the country taking the route to Gatesville, while the friends and neighbors of the girls made haste to restore them to their sorrow-stricken parents and family. It was some time before they were sufficiently recovered to tell us their heart-rending story. Although they expressed their gratitude in the most fervent manner, and their eyes beamed with delight at the prospect of being restored to their home, their features wore a sad expression; and although we did all in our power to revive their spirits while they were with us, they were never seen to smile.

This outrage threw the whole frontier into a frenzy of excitement, and wherever the story of their wrongs was repeated, it enkindled a blaze of indignation which only the blood of the Comanche could quench.

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