William and Anna up behind them and stole down into the valley where they rejoined their fellow raiders . All at once their yells pierced the night air causing the grazing horses to stampede .
“ Driving the stolen horses , the Indians started back the way we had come ,” William said .
“ We passed within a mile of my father ’ s house . Our dogs barked familiarly and I distinctly heard our old rooster crow . We crossed the Brazos River and rode all night . At daylight , we stopped at a clump of trees at the mouth of a canyon . Staking their horses out with ropes , the Indians got down and fell asleep as they dropped . One of them rolled me in a blanket so that I could not move , put the ends of the blanket under him and caught my feet in his . I was so exhausted that I was asleep before he had finished tucking me in . They did not secure Anna . She lay down at my side . Just before daylight I stirred involuntarily half asleep . I said something , I know not what , but it was enough to bring every Indian to his feet , and I felt very certain that here our captors would kill us . One of them seized me , and another Anna . They threw us on the back of an old roan mare , Anna before , and tying us there , turned our mount loose . Then hastily mounting , they put their drove of more than 30 horses ahead of them and started at a run across Robertson ’ s Prairie , 16 miles in width , in Erath County . We reached the breaks of Sunday Creek , on the west side of the prairie , about the middle of the day .”
Feeling safe , the raiders stopped for a day and lollygagged about , killing a couple of range calves when they became hungry . The Indians ate the meat raw and offered some to their captives , but William and Anna , who though they felt they “ could eat a horse ,” could not stomach the bloody calf meat .
“ At sundown , they killed a cow , and one of their numbers started a fire by striking a piece of flint with the back of the blade of his knife , burned some of the meat , which he offered
Palo Pinto mountains
us . We ate some of it , but without relish ,” William recalled .
The next day the party made for Palo Pinto County and the Palo Pinto Mountains . In frontier times , Indians traveled between Parker and Palo Pinto counties and the rolling plains to the west via a certain trail , the only crossing point for miles . Most of the Indian raiders who plundered in Parker and Palo Pinto counties used this trail to escape pursuing parties or possession of settlers .
The captives felt a little easier about their ordeal , other than being prompted to eat raw meat , that they had not been mistreated . “ As the Indians did not kill us when they had so much time on their hands ,” William later related , “ when they were on Sunday Creek , we concluded that they meant to adopt us … The Indians at no time objected to our talking , or in any way mistreated us … .”
Upon reaching the Palo Pintos , the party started up a mountain with two warriors and the captives in the lead followed by the stolen horses . Bringing up the rear were the other five Indians . Halfway up , they encountered a sight that clearly troubled the Indians . There in the midst of this rugged , angular country on a relatively level piece of ground stood an old horse and a lethargic mule wearing a white man ’ s saddle with a well-worn white hat bristling with turkey feathers tied to it . The Indians stopped dead in their tracks . After a short pow-wow , one of them howled like a wolf . Another gobbled like a turkey . A third hooted like an owl . None of these inquiries were answered — all remained quiet on the mountainside . After stringing their bows and steeling their nerve , they once again set out for the top . What happened next turned all tables .
“ As we neared the top of the path , a rattle of firearms all around us startled the night . At the first fire , the horses of both Indians in front and our old roan fell . I found myself in the midst of our herd of plunging and falling horses . I felt sure that the attacking party were my friends headed by my father and uncle , but I could not understand why they were aiming directly at me , as was obviously the case . I could see them deliberately pointing their guns at me , but I was so busy keeping out of the way of the frantic horses that I could not shout . When most of the horses had been killed and the firing had ceased , I called to the men not to shoot any more . One of them who mistook me for a wounded Indian , shouted back , ‘ Just wait till I load my gun and I will be down there .’ Then another voice asked if I were a prisoner . I assured him I was , and invited him to come down and see . ‘ You come up here ,’ he retorted , ‘ and be sure you hold your hands up . If you are a prisoner , don ’ t be afraid .’ With my hands aloft I started up the path . On the way , I saw Anna once
JANUARY 2017 PARKER COUNTY TODAY
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