Chapter 4

Now that Shiply's Troops had the rescued slaves, what were they going to do with them? If the slaves were left to fend for themselves, they would be killed or recaptured in only a few days, so the militia was duty bound to stay with them until something better could be found.

John negotiated with his Indian allies and got 12 horses for the slaves to ride. He figured that his best course of action was to take the slaves to the Army and let them work out what to do. Therefore, they mounted up and started off in the direction of the Army fort.

It took nearly a week to get there, since the slaves had not been on a horse in months, or in years in one case. They rode into the fort and caused quite a sensation. John was able to get the fort commander to take charge of the rescued slaves, so he was able to leave them in safe hands. Their departure was tearful on the part of the slaves, and, to tell the truth, the militia's eyes weren't all that dry, either.

Shiply's troop resumed their patrol by returning to the site of the big raid on the Comanches, where they found evidence that the Indian allies had scalped the Comanches and cropped their noses. It looked like the custom was catching on!

Two days later, they came to another Apache encampment and were welcomed as friends. I seemed that word of the big fight a couple of weeks before was spreading among the Indians and generally meeting with great approval among non-Comanches. A big feast was held and the militia received all of the rewards meted out to heroes, including visits that night by Indian women who were looking for a child with big medicine. The militia enjoyed their visit, but John had them leave before they wore out their welcome.

Less than a week later, the militia was suckered into a fight by some clever Comanches. Three young braves rode close to the Whites and fired off muskets they had captured from somewhere. The shooting was totally inaccurate, but the Indians didn't care—they just wanted the militia to chase them.

Shiply's Troop took off after the Indians at a dead run, but John ordered them not to shoot until they got within reasonable range. The chase lasted for about a mile, but, suddenly, the Whites were met head on by a charging gang of Comanches numbering at least 50. They were brandishing lances, so John had his men wheel around to the left and head for a stand of trees.

"JACK, TAKE CARE OF THE HOSSES! RIFLES AN' PISTOLS, MEN! FIND YERSELF A TREE AN' GIT READY TA FIGHT!"

The trees were close enough together that the Comanches had to pull up and turn away. One horse and man could get through, but there was no room for a mass charge by the Comanches. A few tried to charge through, but they were dispatched by pistol shots before they could become a danger. This worked to the advantage of the Whites, since some of the best routes among the trees were now blocked by downed horses and men.

John ordered, "USE YER PISTOLS! BLAST THE BASTARDS AFORE THEY KIN GIT ORGANIZED! KILL THE HOSSES IFEN YA HAVE TA, BUT SHOOT AWAY!"

The Indians tried to ride away, so John ordered, "USE YER RIFLES! GIT AS MANY AS YA KIN AFORE THEY'RE OUTA RANGE! AIM AT THE MEN, YA'LL PRO'BLY GIT A HOSS IFEN YA MISS!"

The combination of the pistols early and the rifles later had resulted in about 15 dead or dying Comanches. Shit! They were getting off their horses, had these Comanches finally gotten smart? Thank God! The answer was a resounding NO! The Comanches were just exchanging their lances for bows and adjusting their tack for the different kind of fighting. Their quiver of arrows was slung over the horse's withers where it would be easy to reach during combat. The Comanches remounted and were ready for combat.

The Indians began to ride across in front of the Whites from right to left, so that they could shoot their bows more comfortably and accurately. The militia were expecting this tactic, so they were prepared. The first shot was taken with the rifle and the rest with the pistol. Arrows were coming in on the embattled militia thick and fast. They had to be alert, or they would be hit, even killed, by an arrow. At least, they had the possibility of dodging an arrow; nobody could dodge a bullet.

The Indians were doing poorly with their arrows, but the Whites were doing well with their bullets. None of the Whites had yet been hit, but the Indians were being hit approximately once for every 15 shots. This doesn't sound like much, but the Indians were slowly, but steadily, being worn down. Shiply's men were well prepared for this kind of battle; they had plenty of ammunition and should easily outlast the Indians.

The battle had been running for several hours, an unusually long time, since the Indians got bored easily, but they were unusually persistent this time. Could it be that the guidon with the picture of the severed nose was what was keeping their attention?

The battle had started in mid-morning, and by mid-afternoon, the Indians were reduced to less than half of their effective number at the start of the battle. However, the Indians showed no sign of giving up. They looked like they would be there all night and ready to resume the fight the next morning.

Darkness settled in and the Indians had, indeed, made camp just out of range of the rifles. John called his men together and had them eat some pemmican and jerky for supper. He said, "Boys, we're in good shape for a while, but I'm a little worried what will happen when we start ta run short of water. There ain't none around here that we kin git without drawin' a passel of Injuns. Seems ta me that we should break out tonight an' run like hell. Anybody see any different?...

"No? OK, this is what we'll do. We'll give the Injuns a couple of hours to settle down an' git careless. When the time looks good, we'll mount up an' ride right through their camp, shootin' an' hollerin' fer all we're worth. Try ta kill as many Injuns as ya kin without stoppin', cause ifen ya do, ya're dead.

"On our way, we'll try ta scatter their hosses. That way, any pursuit will be delayed, pro'bly long enough fer us ta git away. When we ride away, we'll head no'th to Danby's Crossing. Anybody what gits separated should head fer there; we'll wait fer ya as long as we kin. Any questions?... No? OK, try to git as much rest as ya kin. I'll call ya when I think it's time ta skedaddle."

It was about 1:00 AM and the moon was high, so they could see well enough to ride. John went to each man, individually, and told him to get to his horse—they were ready to leave. When everybody was mounted and ready, John led them out of the trees, being as quiet as possible. With the trees as a background, they weren't spotted by the Comanche guards, and they got quite close to the camp without raising an alarm.

John pulled a pistol and shouted, "LET'S GO, BOYS!" They rode into the camp, hollering and shooting at every Indian they saw. The surprise was complete, and not a weapon was raised against them. They rode toward the horses and managed to knock down the rope corral. Thus, the horses were easy to scatter as they raced through the herd. They kept going as fast as they could for 30 minutes before John called a halt.

"Everybody make it?... Good, I thought so. We'll keep goin' fer another hour afore we stop fer camp, 'less we see a good place afore then." It was only about 30 minutes later when Jerome reported finding a good place to camp, so they stopped for the night. The next day, they stopped in the town of Jimson to restock ammunition and their other supplies.

While they were at the gunsmith's shop, John saw something that intrigued him: a Colt Dragoon that had been modified to have a shoulder stock and a 24-inch barrel. The gunsmith took him out back to his shooting range and demonstrated the first repeating rifle John had ever seen. John had to have it, so he bought it to replace his issued Mississippi rifle. His men teased him about it, but John stubbornly stuck to his choice. Though $30 was a lot to pay for a rifle, John was sure the fact that it was a repeater made it worth while.