Home Forums Hunting & Shooting Hunter's Campfire Buffalo Wallow Fight (Texas panhandle, 1874)

https://tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/btb03

BUFFALO WALLOW FIGHT. The Buffalo Wallow Fight was one of the most unusual engagements in the Red River War. On September 10, 1874, Col. Nelson A. Miles, whose command was running short of rations, sent two scouts, Billy Dixon and Amos Chapman, and four enlisted men, Sgt. Z. T. Woodhall and privates Peter Rath, John Harrington, and George W. Smith, from his camp on McClellan Creek with dispatches concerning the delay of Capt. Wyllys Lyman's supply train, then under siege by Indians on the upper Washita River (see LYMAN'S WAGON TRAIN).

https://tshaonline.org/handbook/online/articles/qfl02

The six-man contingent set out on the trail to Camp Supply in Indian Territory. On the morning of September 12, as they approached the divide between Gageby Creek and the Washita River in Hemphill County, they suddenly found themselves surrounded by about 125 Comanche and Kiowa warriors, some of whom had come from the siege of the wagon train. Since retreating Indians had burned off the prairie grass only days before, there was no shelter close by; Dixon and his companions thus decided to dismount and make a desperate stand. In a few minutes George Smith, who took charge of the horses, fell with a bullet through his lungs. The horses then stampeded, carrying with them the men's haversacks, canteens, coats, and blankets. The mounted Indians indulged in a cat-and-mouse game with their intended victims by circling them and firing on a dead run. Soon Harrington and Woodhall were hit, and Chapman's left knee was shattered by a bullet. When the Indians desisted for a few minutes, Dixon, who had a slight wound in the calf, spotted a buffalo wallow a few yards away. He bade his companions take cover in this shallow depression, which was about ten feet in diameter. By noon, all except Chapman and Smith had reached it safely and with their hands and butcher knives began throwing up the sandy loam around the perimeter of the wallow for better protection. In the process, the men managed to keep their adversaries at bay and away from Smith and Chapman.

As the fight progressed, Dixon tried several times to reach Chapman but was forced back repeatedly by a hail of bullets and arrows. Since the crippled scout had lived as a "squaw man" among the Indians for a time and was known to many of the warriors present, they taunted him by shouting, "Amos, Amos, we got you now, Amos!" Finally, early in the afternoon, Dixon made it to Chapman and carried him back amid the gunfire to the safety of the wallow.

As the day wore on, the five men suffered terribly from hunger, thirst, and wounds; but their expert marksmanship continued to hold back the Indians, who could not even capture Smith's guns. Late in the afternoon an approaching thunderstorm brought relief to the parched men and served to break off the Indian attack, but the blue norther that it heralded resulted in more suffering from a severe drop in temperature. Taking advantage of the lull in the skirmish, Peter Rath went to recover Smith's weapons and ammunition and was astonished to find Smith still alive. Dixon and Rath carried the unfortunate trooper back to their makeshift fortress, where he died later that night.

At nightfall the Indians disappeared. Dixon and Rath fashioned crude beds for themselves and their wounded comrades out of tumbleweeds they had gathered and crushed. Afterward Rath went to bring help but was unable to locate the trail and returned in two hours. The following morning, September 13, dawned clear with no Indians in sight. Dixon then volunteered to go for help and found the trail less than a mile away. Soon he saw a column of United States Cavalry in the distance and fired his gun to attract their attention. As it turned out, this contingent consisted of four companies of the Eighth Cavalry from Fort Union, New Mexico, about 225 men in all, under the command of Maj. William R. Price. Price's appearance had caused the Indians to withdraw from the wallow and Lyman's wagons.

Price accompanied Dixon back to the wallow but had no ambulance wagon and was running short of supplies himself. What was more, Dixon's companions mistook the approaching column for Indians and, before the scout could stop them, shot the horse of one of the surgeon's escorts. As a result, the piqued surgeon only briefly examined the men, and Price refused them ammunition or reinforcements, although some of his troops did give them hardtack and dried beef. Price then moved on, promising to notify Colonel Miles and send aid immediately. Not until nearly midnight, however, did aid arrive and the beleaguered men receive food and medical attention. George Smith's body was wrapped in an army blanket and buried in the wallow, and the disabled survivors were taken to Camp Supply for treatment. Amos Chapman's leg was subsequently amputated above the knee, and Woodhall and Harrington recovered and continued their military service. After "severely censuring" Price for his failure to render further aid to the survivors, Colonel Miles recommended that they be given the Medal of Honor for bravery under adverse circumstances. The medals were awarded, including a posthumous one to Smith; Dixon personally received his from Miles while they were encamped on Carson Creek near Adobe Walls.

The Buffalo Wallow Fight was widely publicized as a heroic engagement; Richard Irving Dodge presented a somewhat inaccurate narrative of the episode in his book Our Wild Indians (1882). While nearly all accounts of the battle, including Dixon's, claimed that the six men killed as many as two dozen warriors, Amos Chapman, who spent his later years in Seiling, Oklahoma, once told George Bent that no Indian actually fell to their guns. Some years later, the medals of Chapman and Dixon were revoked by Congress since they had served the army as civilian scouts. Dixon, however, refused to surrender what he felt he had justly earned. His medal is now on display at the Panhandle-Plains Historical Museum in Canyon. In 1925, under direction of J. J. Long and Olive King Dixon, a granite monument was erected on the Buffalo Wallow site, twenty-two miles southeast of Canadian. It bears the names of the six heroes "who cleared the way for other men."

"Life of Billy Dixon" - Olive K. Dixon
I recommend this book.

Awesome story. I'll have to look for that buffalo wallow.

The standoff continued into the third day, when a group of Indians was sighted about a mile east of Adobe Walls. It is said Dixon quickly took aim with a borrowed .50-90 Sharps
buffalo rifle and fired, knocking an Indian near Chief Quanah Parker off his horse, nearly a mile away on his third shot."

I believe the Buffalo Wallow Fight was a completely different engagement than The Second Battle of Adobe Walls, which is where Billy Dixon made his famous shot. That engagement was in June of 1874, and the Buffalo Wallow Fight was in September of 1874.

I agree. I was referencing the book I recommended.
How's that for CYA?

lol

Sorry. I misunderstood ya'.

I think there's been alot of arguments over the "almost a mile" shot.

A mile is a long way with open sights

Great story! Thanks for posting.
The Comanche were some real bad asses. Took the Texans 50 years to conquer them, without the Colt six gun never would have done it.

I believe the role of the revolver is considerably over-stated. For close-quarters combat, sure. The hard part was getting close enough to use one and the PREMIER Indian fighter of his era, Texas Ranger Captain RIP Ford wrote that even then the Comanche bow and the sixgun were evenly matched at such times. Outside of dueling of course, fighting fair is something to be avoided at all costs.

The way to fight Plains Indians was to get off of your horse, take careful aim with your rifle, and shoot the other guy off of HIS horse, a tactic generally employed by the Eastern Tribes when they moved out West, cutting a wide swathe. This was also the usual tactic employed by Ford hisself.

MOST Comanches of course died from diseases, just like pretty much every other tribe, second to that you can make a pretty good case that more of 'em fell to other Indians, especially displaced Eastern Indians than to the Texans.

By the Red River War, MOST Comanches were already on reservations in Oklahoma, getting heavily into the cattle business (Comanches traded more'n 30,000 head of Texas cattle to the Army in New Mexico in 1873), a hothead minority was still out.

Out of desperation this minority faction of Kiowas and Comanches actually put on a Sun Dance in the summer of '74, a rite borrowed from the Northern Tribes and a thing they hadn't done before.

After that religious event Quanah Parker wanted to go against the dreaded and implacable Tonkawas, who had been eating Comanches regularly for more'n forty years by that point and who had repeatedly led Ranald MacKenzie down upon them.

It was actually the Feds as represented by MacKenzie that finally broke these holdouts, capturing many of their women and children and using these hostages as leverage to bring them in. Who actually brought them in was the German Physician JJ "Doc" Sturm who by that time had been looking after the Comanches since the Brazos Reserve days, twenty years earlier. Sturm rode out to the Comanche camps alone, bringing them the Govt terms.

This good and gentle man, whose memory is still esteemed in Comanche country today, in company with the middle-aged Comanche chief Mow-Ray, travelled all over West Texas in '74 and '75, locating and bringing in scattered Comanche refugees.

Interestingly enough, the Comanche Medicine Man Isha-tai, whose bullet proof medicine failed so spectacularly at Adobe Walls, went on to play an active role in reservation politics after the shooting was all over, mostly as a political opponent of Quanah Parker.

As for Billy Dixon's famous shot, I am fully prepared to believe it may have been from the better part of a mile away, mostly because of the testimony of Billy Dixon hisself, who alway said it was a "scratch" ie. lucky shot, almost a fluke. Of course, if he weren't an outstanding shot, the shot would never have connected, lucky or not.

Birdwatcher

As an addendum to your post:

http://www.palodurocanyon.com/

"Humans have resided in the canyon for approximately 12,000 years. Early settlers were nomadic tribes that hunted mammoth, giant bison, and other large game animals. Later, Apache Indians lived in the canyon, but were soon replaced by Comanche and Kiowa tribes who resided in the area until 1874. At that time, Col. Ranald Mackenzie was sent into the area to transport the Native Americans to Oklahoma. Col. Mackenzie and the 4th Cavalry were able to capture more than 1,400 horses belonging to the tribe. After keeping some of the best horses for themselves, the remainder were taken to nearby Tule Canyon and destroyed. Cut off from their only means of transportation, the Native Americans soon surrendered.

In 1876, Charles Goodnight entered the canyon and opened the JA Ranch. At its peak, the ranch supported more than 100,000 head of cattle. Goodnight operated the ranch until 1890. Although only a fraction of its original size, the JA Ranch remains a working ranch today."

Several pages of great photo's of Palo Duro Canyon SP at the link above.

Buffalo and Creedmoor guns,....

Do you know anything about the "Billy Dixon Match" that some BPCR loonies hold / held ?

Kenny Waserburgers 1 mile match ?

.....really depends on what one calls a "long way".

Dixon himself called it a lucky shot.

GTC

GREAT lyric , herein

regarding Comanches, revolvers, and Texans...

I think they ended up shooting over a thousand of em'.

I've been there. Adobe Walls is literally out in the middle of nowhere, and there was probably not another human being within 10 miles of us when we visited this battlefield. Although the violence is long since gone and it is utterly quiet and peaceful there, there is something that still lingers. I suppose spooky is the wrong word, but eerie is pretty close to the feeling I got, if eerie can also be fascinating.

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I've read that having a few drinks, while pelting away at rocks up on the ridge on which that poor Comanche bastid caught some of Bridgeport's finest had been popular for some time prior....e.g. they already HAD the elevation sorted out.

Thinkin' Red Meineke ( sp ?) wrote about that in his series in SPG's BPCR News.

GTC

That's WAY cool. Is that site on private land...?

The battlefield is on a small tract of public land accessible by a one-way dirt track county road. It's basically right in the middle of a large private cattle ranch, but still accessible to the public.