Chapter 3

We had almost a full year together before we had another visit by Comanches. This time, it was a full war party. There were at least 20, and maybe as many as 25 braves attacking us, plus there was a war chief who ran the attack. The Comanches had already figured out that many White men were away from home, so this was a good time to wipe out the farms and ranches that so pissed them off.

We were now strong enough to put up a healthy defense. Each one of us had a Henry rifle, and there were two to spare. We also had more revolvers than we could use at once, and they were all loaded with six rounds in each. That was a little bit chancy with the Colts, but I figured that it was worth the risk to have the extra bullets already in the guns.

I took the front of the house, Ma took the back, Mary took the east end and Charlotte took the west end. Each end had only one window, so they were in reasonably good shape when it came to protection. The front and back of the house were more open, but all of the windows had thick shutters with loopholes.

On top of all that, I had been able to get the barb wire fence put up around the house. The Indians found that the hard way when several braves were thrown from their horses. The horses spotted the wire right off and skidded to a stop before they ran into it. Some of the braves were not paying the attention that they should have because they were too busy shouting their war cries. I could not help laughing at the sight of the Indians being dumped because of their carelessness. A couple were seriously injured by the fall, and the war chief gave all of the fallen ones hell for being so sloppy.

I had heard the noise the Indians made and had time to nail the gate closed before they arrived. This outstanding hearing of mine was coming in real handy. Anyhow, the Indians had no way to break through the fence, so they were stuck out of range unless they wanted to attack without their horses. Comanches were definitely not inclined to do that, but we had to wait to find out what this bunch had in mind.

Meanwhile, all four of us had gathered at the front of the house and were shooting at the Comanches as they milled around in a state of confusion. They must of never run up against a defensive fence before, and they did not seem to know how to deal with it. I told the women that it was okay to shoot at the men, since the horses were not likely to make it up close to us.

The war chief sent scouts around the house to see if the fence was in the way at the back and sides. The scouts reported back in a couple of minutes or so, and I was sure the report was that the fence was a solid barrier. We kept shooting, and we managed to knock down seven more of the braves, so the war chief must of figured that we were too tough a nut to crack. They gathered up their wounded and dead and rode off a lot less enthusiastically than when they had ridden up.

The nice thing about this raid was that we did not have a mess of dead bodies to clean up. The men were not too bad, but them heavy horses were a real pain to deal with!

After the Comanches left, we all went out to see what kind of damage they might have done. It looked like we got off very easy. None of us could spot anything that was damaged by the Indians, not even the fence! I was right happy with that because I did not want to have to re-string the damned thing. That barb wire was a pain to work with, even when you were wearing heavy gloves!

It was a few weeks later that I discovered I had made a serious mistake in my defenses. I had not included the barn when I planned for an Indian attack. Well, maybe I could be forgiven for the oversight, because we did not experience a regular Indian attack. Some young buck got a monumental inspiration and decided to steal our stock. He sneaked in at night and stole our mules and two horses.

He could expect a big reception when he got back to camp because the Indians loved mule meat! He would undoubtedly receive a coup feather for the accomplishment, and he might even pick up a wife as a result of his exploit. That would depend on whom he dedicated the feast of mule meat to.

Well, if I was going to save my mules, I had better get my ass on a horse pretty damned soon. I grabbed up my Henry rifle and left Ma in charge as I rode off after the mule thief. At least, the Indian did leave me a horse. The four mules and two horses he took were all one man could handle.

I was able to catch sight of him as they crossed a ridge about two miles away. I saw them more from the dust cloud than from actually seeing the Indian or the animals. He was sticking to the road, possibly because it made it easier to control that many animals than it would have been to cut cross country. In any case, I now knew where he was so he was easier to chase.

I knew that I would wear out my horse very soon, but I had to catch up before he met any more Indians. I figured that I could handle up to three, but more Comanches than that would be too many for me to take on alone in open country.

I gained on my quarry fairly quickly, as he was not pushing his animals all that hard. I wonder if he was concerned about running fat off the mules. My horse was just about to give out when I got close enough to use my Henry. I did not want to take any chances, so I dropped to the ground for a steadier shooting platform. My horse was tired enough to stand very still, so I used it as a steady-rest as I lined up my shot. Mindful of how a horse could be depended upon to move just when it was most inconvenient, I did not dawdle. I fired as soon as I had the Indian's back in my sights.

The range was a little greater than I had estimated, so I hit him in the lower back instead of between his shoulder blades where I had been aiming. No matter, he was down and as good as dead. He fell to the ground, and all of the animals stopped where they were; I was sure that he had not rested any of them since he left my farm.

When I got to him, the Comanche was not quite dead, but I did not waste a bullet helping him along. I figured that he deserved a slow death, so I just left him where he was. His body was not blocking the road, so he was not going to put anybody out over where he was lying. Well, I did gain a horse for my trouble, so I guess I did come out ahead. Anyway, I took it real slow when I drove the animals back to the farm, and it was close to dark by the time I got there.

I had missed lunch, so I ate a big supper and collapsed into bed even before Charlotte could get there. She wanted to show me how happy she was that I had gotten home safely, and she used her pussy to do that. Man, married life sure has a lot going for it! I never complained when I found out why she woke me up.

It was a good thing that I had fenced in the barn that year because 1862 was a bad year for Comanche attacks. It seemed like they came up every couple of weeks, and once we even had two attacks in one week. We had no idea what had stirred up the Comanches so much, but we were kept busy fighting them off that fall.

Our fence did a wonderful job of protecting the house and barn. The barn was also made of adobe, so it was in no danger of burning, though the hay inside was a fire hazard. I kept most of the dried hay outside under a tarp, but we did lose some of that on two occasions from fire-arrows.

Our biggest worries were when we had to go into town. There were some things, like sugar and flour, that we had to buy, so we had to work out how we were going to make it to town with the Comanche threat hanging over our heads.