Captain Buck Barry was a noted fighter

Captain R. B. (Buck) Barry, who died some years ago in Bosque County, was known from Red River to the Rio Grande as one of the greatest Indian fighters that figured in frontier warfare. From his pen we give some of his experiences while following the crimson trail during the early days in Texas:

As the State Convention that passed the ordinance of secession saw proper to place troops on our frontier after the Federal forces had retired, they ordered Col. Henry E. McCulloch to proceed at once to the front and take charge of the forts then occupied by United States soldiers. 

A portion of my company was at that time camped on the head of Hubbard's creek, and I was ordered out by Governor Houston while I was absent on a scout. Subsequently, they were transferred to the Confederate service. When I returned, I found myself in command of a company in the First Texas Cavalry under Col. Henry McCulloch.

Our regiment was stationed in detachments from Red River to the Rio Grande, each about a day's ride apart along the uppermost settlements.

The first scout of any importance was ordered out by Major Burleson who directed me to meet him at a certain spring on Red River, about a day's ride above the Wichita Mountains. The night before the morning on which I was to start, a messenger came in stating that ten of my men whom I had sent to escort some wagons from Camp Cooper on the Brazos to Gooch's ranch on Red River had been roughly handled by a band of Indians between the Red Fork of the Brazos and Little Wichita, about 40 miles from Camp Cooper where I was then stationed. 

I sent off one-half of my company to their relief that night and all that could be spared from the post the next morning. They met with the remnant of the detachment at Red Fork. After burying young McKay, one of the mortally wounded and giving such medical aid as we could to the other wounded, we sent them back with an escort.

The detachment of which I speak, was under the leadership of Sergeant Erhenback, and they were surrounded on all sides by the Indians on the open prairie. Eight of their ten horses were killed or wounded.

Corporal Miller said that during the hottest of the fight which lasted from 9 a.m. until 3 p.m. and while completely surrounded and exposed to a heavy crossfire, Sergeant Erhenback ordered a retreat. 

Miller told the boys it meant sure death to undertake to run out and persuaded them to fight it out where they were as they had several dead horses behind which to shelter. During the controversy, Miller called the Sergeant a coward, whereupon they tried to turn their guns on each other but were prevented by the men.

After the Indians had used up all their ammunition, they drew off. The wounded men rode such horses as were able to travel while the rest fought around them on foot against four times their own number.

After burying young McKay we travelled on, and after half a day's journey, we overtook the Indians that had attacked the wagon escort. Their force had been increased by 100 warriors, and they were heading for the settlements. Willie Biffle, who was scouting on the right flank and some distance from the command, came in and reported Indian signs. 

I halted the command and sent 12 men back after the pack mules which had been stampeded. They were scarcely out of sight over the divide when we heard the firing. We hastened to their relief but not in time to save three of the twelve men from being killed and several wounded. 

We charged right in among them and amid loud yells, the crack of the rangers' revolvers and the oaths and shouts of the Texans, the battle became general. Indians never could stand a hand-to-hand fight long at a time, and while on this occasion they outnumbered us, at least three to one, they began to fall back. For twelve miles we crowded them and kept up the fight across the divide between the Little Wichita and the Red Fork of the Brazos. 

During this running fight, whenever we became somewhat scattered in the chase the Indians would rally and try to check our advance. They were well armed and well mounted, and each warrior was rigged out with a great array of savage toggery. 

The head ornaments the chiefs wore were made up of feathers, stripped from the quills and tied in his hair as long as there was a place to tie on, until it made his head look as large as a wash tub. He was a brave Indian but we made his hair and feathers both fly. Many shots were deflected from the course by his fine shield, but finally John L. Hardigree got a good bead just over the edge of his shield, pulled the trigger and the bullet struck the savage in his head, putting him out of business. As soon as the Indians saw the chief fall they rallied round him and carried him off.

Many of our men were on slow horses and had fallen behind, but coming up just then with loaded guns they soon put the Indians on the move once more.

In this fight we lost three brave men: Thos. J. Weathersby, Lip Conley and Bud Lane. Two men were wounded. We killed seven of the Indians that we know of. 

The next morning our horses were so stiff we had to help them upon their feet. Lieut. Bushong's horse was unable to stand, and we had to leave him expecting him to be devoured by wolves but when we returned to camp several days later we found the faithful beast there.

We buried our three comrades in a buffalo rut and covered them with earth which we carried in our blankets from the nearest bluff, where it was easily scooped out. After we had thus covered their bodies as well as we could with earth, we laid heavy stones on top of all to prevent the wolves from scratching them up. This was in July 1861. 

We moved a short distance that day, and on the day following, our scouts on our right flank reported that they saw Indians chasing buffalo. We started in after them at once and soon ran our horses down. Having an idea that the Indians would follow us I left two men on the best horses in my outfit on our trail three miles from where I aimed to camp and ordered them to keep close watch until dark. Shortly after nightfall they came in and reported that the Indians were on our trail and were following us.

I divided my force into groups or squads of five and placed them around our horses with orders for no one to speak above a whisper. We were all exceedingly tired, and sleepy and needed rest would have been most welcome, but we knew that we were in eminent peril and our safety depended on wakeful vigilance. It was a clear night but very dark and the bushes and vines overhanging the ravine in which we were camped added to the intensity of the gloom. 

At 11 o'clock it became evident that the savages were prowling around and every man was on the alert. An hour later the skulking thieves were discovered trying to crawl to our horses. A volley from the nearest squad brought down two of these and the others fled. Another attempt was made a little later but ended in failure. Several shots were fired at us, but no one was hit. 

Some of the men were encamped above and some below in the ravine. Nearby was a dark hole or canyon that opened into the ravine, and I suspected that a bunch of Indians had gone into this hole. I inquired if any of the men were willing to volunteer and explore this hiding place and see if any Indians were hidden there. Aaron Burr Brown, an 18 year old boy said, “Captain, suppose you go yourself as you are getting the biggest pay for hunting Indians, and here is a good chance to find one in the dark.” 

I said “All right; you go in with me,” and he went. We felt our way along the wall or bank but found nothing but a horse. The next day we continued our route up the Brazos. We found plenty of Indian signs and I am satisfied they would have attacked us had they not discovered Major Burleson's command on the opposite side of the river.

Two of my men who had been wounded and lost during our chase after the Indians, supposed, it appears, that the rest of us had been killed. They made their way to Camp Cooper and reported that they were the only survivors of the fight. This report was generally believed. And it was a long time before it was corrected, as we were forty days in getting back to camp. 

I kept one scouting party out all the balance of that year. No fights of any importance occurred until winter set in. The Indians were depredating all the time on the settlements, but the rangers and the settlers found it very difficult to catch them. They almost invariably managed to elude pursuit.

During the winter Captain Milton Bogges, with near half his company, and I, with about half of mine, were going up Pecos River and when near its head waters we discovered an Indian camp in the distance, but seeing us first the Indians ran off, leaving their camp equipment, robes, blankets, etc., and some of their ponies and a large quantity of meat. We stopped in their camp and took possession of all we wanted.

The next day we hunted them until night, but without success. The day following we discovered them at a great distance off. I told the boys that we had to throw away every pound of extra weight, even including their ropes and hobbles and to run the Indians as long as one was in sight. I told them if anyone should fail to keep up with the rest, he would have to show bloody spurs as evidence that he did his best. 

Being now in very fair trim for a chase and a fight and all hands eager, we put in after the Indians and after running them for eight miles and getting pretty close up in their rear, they began to leave their slowest horses and double up on their best ones. 

John Hancock of Gainesville who was mounted on one of the best horses in my company, was well in advance and fired the first shot at the Indians who then raised a white flag. One of the Indians spoke English, and Hancock told them that white rag wouldn't count; that he had traveled too far to be cheated out of a fight in that fashion. By this time, most of my men had come up and the fight became general. 

Many of our horses had broken down in the chase, and it left us rather short of men, but close, well directed shots soon told with fearful effect upon the Indians and they began to retreat, after which a running fight was kept up for about four miles on the open plains where not a bush or shrub was to be seen. Nearly all of the Indians were killed; only two escaping.

Just as the fight closed, I saw two Indians whose horses had been killed, make off to themselves and I thought it very strange. Sam Stills and I took in after them. Our guns were empty and by the time we loaded them we discovered that the two red rascals were making for the head of the canyon. 

Stills ran along on the plain to a point about 150 yards below, then ran down in the canyon and lay in wait in the bushes. He had just got in position when his Indian came tearing along and at the crack of Still's gun, he turned a somersault and off went his scalp. 

The one I had shot could not be found. We found blood on the rocks where he first fell and the conclusion was that he had crawled off and hid among the loose rocks that had fallen from the bluff. While we were sitting on the rocks resting ourselves, Aaron Burr Brown said to me that if I would have him decently buried and rocks piled over his grave to prevent the wolves from scratching him up then in case he was killed, he would go down among the rocks and try to resurrect that Indian. I promised all he asked and off he went. 

He not been gone long until we heard the report of his gun and in a few minutes, we saw him coming out backwards from a crevice, the report of his pistol among the rocks having nearly stunned him. He waited until the smoke had cleared away, went in and dragged out the dead Indian.

When we had collected our spoils of war, scalps, we went back to where we had left our pack mules and before we reached the place we came upon a fine, sleek looking young Indian who had been wounded in the hips. His comrades thinking he was mortally hurt had taken all his weapons from him but his butcher knife. But he was game and put up a good fight with his knife until it was knocked out of his hand. He was then seized by the men and the first thing they did to him was to peel off his top-knot. He complained bitterly at being scalped alive, but a bullet soon hushed his plaints and revilings.

In April 1862, we were ordered to Fort Mason for the purpose of being mustered out. Before reaching Fort Mason, we camped at Camp San Saba on the San Saba River. A band of Indians that had been raiding below passed up the country near where we were camped and we soon got in after them and after a chase of ten or twelve miles we came up with them. 

During this run we had crowded them so closely that we forced them to abandon their loose horses. One of the warriors had on a silk dress and other female apparel that had belonged to a lady on the San Saba. They had raided the place, killed and scalped the entire family and this monster was wearing the dress of one of the murdered victims. 

Capt. Bogges thought he was a squaw, but he soon found that a warrior's strength was inside that silk dress. In the fight that followed he was killed and his scalp, the blood-stained dress and other articles were sent to friends of the murdered family. 

In this fight, Sergeant Erhenback was badly wounded, Mr. Johnson was also wounded, and Lieutenant Nelms' lips were pinned together with an arrow. My horse was shot in the neck and shoulder with arrows and killed. The Indians were nearly all killed, only a few escaping.

SOURCE Frontier Times, January 1924