Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1906-08-24
DEATH OF coMANcHE CHIEF.
Story Of Indian Warfare In Northern
Texas,
From the Youths Companion.

All day long wagon after wagon had
been rumbling up from all parts of Co.
manche county in Oklahoma to a gospel
rendezvous on Cache creek. The camp was
teeming with modern Indian life. The
smoke was rising from fifty little camp
fires; the innumerable dogs were fight
Ing; the squaws were chattering as they
prepared the evening meal: the men were
attending to the horses: the children were
racing and laughing. An old Texan was
talking to the missionary, who was In
tensely interested in the story.
I've seen the time when We gave the
Comanches bullets instead of Bibles ne
said 1T was in the war of the early
seventies. / was one of the Texas rang
ers and we fought the Comanches to the
finish We fought them tut of Texas, and
then the troops did them up at McClel-
lan's creek in the territory. Comanches
could fight in those days. i saw some
brave Indians die one old chief in par
ticular. l always feel sorry when think
Of 1t.
1--WE Texans were fighting our own war
with the Comanches. The troops were in
the territory. chasing the 'Staked Plains
band of Comanches; but We stayed In Texas
and fought Comanches and kfowas Wher-
ever We found them. Well. one day we
found them too thick. About twenty of us
got cut off and had to take to the buttes to
save our horses. We kept the redskins on
until we TedCHeu lHe DutteS, anu, lcdNiH6
our horses there, we rushed back a long
gun range from them and then lay down
In the tall grass and kept the Indians on
with rifles until help came. This
saved our horses, and, fortunately, we
lost only two men.
The Comanches would ride within
range and fire upon us, but we could
shoot from perfect rest. and we emptied
many saddles.
One Comanche had white hair, and
when he would whirl his horse around
and come riding low. with his gun ready
to shoot the rangers would call to each
other, Look out for old granddaddy. He
shoots close There was something I'M
natural about the old Indians riding. and
Jack Jefferson who was shooting next to
me, said. with laugh. The old buck Is
so stiff that he can't ride slick.
"One time the old man came on little
too far. Jack pulled up his gun. We saw
the Indians horse rise and plunge, and
we knew that Jack hadn't missed.
Hes coming on cried Jack. And sure
enough. he was running straight for us.
low and swift, over the long grass. the
old man Juggling in vain at the rein and
trying to turn his maddened pony.
"A dozen rifles were raised to stop him.
but Jack, all wild with fight and fun.
yelled. Don't shoot. He's coming in. He's
my meat
The old Comanche came on while the
other Indians in the distance were shoot
ing and yelling like demons. But he made
no attempt to fire. He sat straight up on
his horse, and as ne came close we nedru
him singing.
lone hand was clutching his empty rifle
His eyes were fixed straight ahead. He
was riding to his finish, singing the death
chant of the Comanche warrior. 1t was
skeery sight. Jack raised his gun, but
Just couldn't shoot, and nobody else want
ed to. The crazy pony passed almost over
our heads. Then all of sudden he
Strengthened up in the air and came down
head first on the ground-Indian under,
as the horses feet rose up In the SOmer-
sault.
why didn't the old fool slide of?
yelled Jack as we both crouched with
our rifles ready In case the Indian should
rise again. But no Indian showed up, and
the horse lay perfectly still.
After a bit the Comanches drew of out
of range, and Jack and 1 walked over to
where the dead horse lay Shot the pony
through the head" said Jack and as we
came up and saw the limp and lifeless
body of the old Comanche Jack turned to
me with strange choke in his voice.
Partner. he's broke his neck, and he was
tied onto his horse"
That night, after the preaching service,
the missionary, with a dozen of the lead
ing men of the Comanche tribe, some old
men, with war records, sat around the
fire. Through the interpreter the mission
airy told them of the tale of the white
haired Comanche. Their eyes glistened,
and deep cultural "Ha, hal followed
each sentence.
When the story was done there was a
long. solemn silence, and the Interpreter.
turning to the missionary, said: They
say it's So