ly five miles from camp, and giving our
attention to the running cattle we soon turned the lead. The main body
of the herd was strung back for a mile, but we fell on the leaders
right and left, and soon had them headed back for camp. In the mean
time, and with the breaking of day, our trail had been taken up by
both drovers and half a dozen men, who overtook us shortly after
sun-up. A count was made and we had every hoof. A determined fight had
occurred over the remuda and commissary, and three of the Indians'
ponies had been killed, while some thirty arrows had found lodgment
in our wagon. There were no casualties in the cow outfit, and if any
occurred among the redskins, the wounded or killed were carried away
by their comrades before daybreak. All agreed that there were fully
one hundred warriors in the attacking party, and as we slowly drifted
the cattle back to camp doubt was expressed by the drovers whether it
was advisable to drive the herd to its destination in midsummer with
the Comanches out on their old hunting grounds.

A report of the attack was sent into Griffin that morning, and a
company of cavalry took up the Indian trail, followed it until
evening, and returned to the post during the night. Approaching a
government station was generally looked upon as an audacious act
of the redskins, but the contempt of the Comanche and his ally for
citizen and soldier alike was well known on the Texas frontier and
excited little comment. Several years later, in broad daylight, they
raided the town of Weatherford, untied every horse from the hitching
racks, and defiantly rode away with their spoil. But the prevailing
spirits in our camp were not the kind to yield to an inferior race,
and, true to their obligation to the contractors, they pushed forward
preparations to start the herd. Within a week our numbers were
completed, two extra men were secured, and on the morning of July 14,
1867, we trailed out up the Clear Fork with a few over twenty-six
hundred big beeves. It was the same old route to the southwest, there
was a decided lack of enthusiasm over the start, yet never a word of
discouragement escaped the lips of men or employers. I have never been
a superstitious man, have never had a premonition of impending danger,
always rather felt an enthusiasm in my undertakings, yet that morning
when the flag over Fort Griffin faded from our view, I believe there
was not a man in the outfit but realized that our journey w