Dallas Morning News
8 November 1925

TEXAS WOMAN KEEPS SKULL OF RAIDING INDIAN, MEMBER OF TRIBE THAT KILLED HER SON
Last Redskin Fight in Grayson County Re-enacted in Story.
Boy's Life Saved
Youth Spared by His Position in Bed, Although Companion slain.
By E.J. Parker

Sherman, Texas, Nov. 7 - The following account of the last Indian raid in Grayson County was written by Miss Kate Dugan, who was present and took part in the fight, which occurred at the old Dugan homestead near Bells, eighteen miles east of Sherman.
The raid took place eighty-four years ago, and all of those who took part in it have long since passed away. Miss Dugan, the writer of the letter, was an aunt of the late Dan Dugan of this city, who served many years in the City Council and was a large property owner here. George Dugan, now residing on the old home place near Bells, is a descendant of the Dugan family.
This raid was at the home of the original Daniel Dugan, some time in the spring of 1841, the exact date of which has not been preserved. The letter, however, in full, has been preserved by Mrs. Oscar S. Gresham of this city, she having clipped it from an old copy of the Sherman Courier, an early newspaper of Grayson County.

Miss Kate Dugan wrote:
"The first indications of Indians we had noticed was on that Monday evening. The cows would not stand still long enough to be milked, but would sniff the air, hoist their heads and herd together in the upper part of the pen, gazing very intently toward the woods. We felt certain that Indians were in the vicinity watching our movements, but it was such a common occurrence that we took no extra precaution, depending a good deal on our dogs to keep them at a distance. Our dogs had been of great service to us and I believe they had many times kept the Indians off by barking and extreme fierceness. After supper George and William (Dugan) went to the barn to sleep as usual, and the other men went to their room, where they had a good fire burning. Henry Dugan and another boy names William Allred, who was staying at our house, were out in the yard playing until father went to the door and told them to go to bed. Henry slept with Green and, boy like, wanted to sleep in the front, but when he was ready for bed Green was too sound asleep to get over, so, necessarily, Henry had to crawl in behind, and though very unwilling to occupy so undignified a place, it was the means of saving his life. Mother went to bed early and father lay dozing by the kitchen fire, as was his habit, being troubled with rheumatism. Sister Emily and I sat nearby, working by the dim light of a single tallow dip, I sewing and she carding cotton rolls for the next day's spinning. Everything was very quiet, the dogs not even barking as usual. Afterward we knew they were down behind the smokehouse gnawing bones that Gordon had thrown there.
"Emily and I were talking in whispers about the wedding when we both started and listened to an unusual noise we heard in the men's room. The door pin fell to the floor and someone gave the door a kick. We were about to resume our work and conversation, thinking it was one of the men, when, like a thunderbolt, two shots rang out, followed by another, and then all was confusion. Pandemonium broke loose. In an instant the yard seemed full of Indians, all yelling and blowing whistles. Emily sprang up and commenced running up and down the room, screaming "Indians." I blew out the candle the first thing, then ran for a bucket of water and threw it on the fire. I turned just in time to catch mother who, half dazed with sleep, was trying to unbar the door and get out. Father was pretty quick, considering his rheumatism, and grabbing his old flint-lock, ran to the porthole and fired at the noise, as it was too dark to aim. The dogs, hearing the noise, came tearing around the house and joined in the row with all their teeth and lungs, and the Indians soon left. Emily kept running up and down the room, and if the Indians heard that puncheon floor rattle they must have thought the kitchen full of men. I have no doubt, though, that they had watched us as we sat there at work, for there was a crack between the logs near the door that one could have put his arm through, and it is very likely they took observations and knew where to find the men first. I don't know what I should have done if I had turned and seen a pair of shining eyes looking at me through that crack.

ONE KILLED, ONE WOUNDED
"After the Indians left and the noise subsided, we could hear cries and groans in the men's room which set us almost distracted. Father called out through the porthole to know who was hurt and Gordon answered that Green was killed and Hoover wounded.
"In about half an hour we heard three shots in the direction of the barn, followed by such terrible groans that we were alarmed for fear that one of the boys was hurt, but the whistles and howls and lamentations, a cross between the howl of a wolf and the cry of a human, accompanying the groans, gave us a very correct idea that our enemies were getting the worst of a bad bargain. We did not dare to stir out until morning, as it was best to keep our forces scattered. We all stayed where we were until sunrise. The men barricaded their door and kept watch in their room and I took father's gun and remained on guard at that porthole while father slept. I could only look once in a while to see if Indians were skulking about the house on our side. All night long I could hear their whistles in one place and then in another, sometimes clear and shrill near the house, then a tremulous, quivering note like the plaintives song of a bird would break the silence of the night. It was evident that the Indians were very uneasy about something.
"Toward morning, as it began to grow light, I leaned forward and saw a light in some bushes and trees and thought that day was at last dawning, thankful that the long and tortuous night was coming to an end and the fearful suspense would soon be over. My searching eyes took in every object within the radius of that porthole, and, as I was about to draw back, I was arrested by a sight that made my heart jump right into my throat. Not twenty feet away stood an Indian, by a tree, silent and motionless as a statue. Where he came from and how he got there was more than I could tell. I had seen no motion and heard no sound. My first thought was to shoot, and what a fine chance it was! I had a feeling of hatred and a desire for vengeance against the whole Indian race, since my brother was so cruelly murdered by them. I raised my gun, but in the excitement of the moment I must have made a noise that gave him the alarm, for when I looked down the shining barrel of the gun, he was gone.
"Sunrise came at last, bringing the boys in from the barn, and when, by a few hurried questions, they learned our situation, George mounted our fleetest horse and went to Warren for a doctor and to inform Green of the death of his son.

DETAILS OF ATTACK
"For many years after the print of an Indian's hand could be seen where he leaned against the soft mortar and pulled the peg out of the door on that fatal night.
"Two shots were fired toward the beds, one striking Green and killing him instantly. Hoover sprang out of bed and sank to the floor with a bad flesh wound in the side, while Gordon, as quick as a flash, jumped over the bed, ran in behind the door and pushed it to with such force the he fairly knocked the Indian out of the door. He fastened it with chairs and tables as best he could, threw water on the fire that was burning brightly in the fireplace and then went to the assistance of the wounded man. Not knowing that Green was shot, Henry sprang out of the bed and tried in vain to rouse him. He threw back the cover, and, taking hold of his hand, told him to "Wake up, the Indians were upon them." But no response came the lips forever dumb, and they soon discovered the poor boy was wrapped in the slumber that knows no awakening.
When George and William heard the firing at the house and Emily screamed, they hurried on their clothing to come to our rescue. Then they heard father's gun and the dogs and thought they had better stay where they were. This proved a wise resolve, for the Indians soon turned their attention to the horses.
"The boys made all preparations, seeing that their guns were in order and ammunition handy. They did not have long to wait. As William was on the outlook at the front side of the barn he saw a dark form moving about very strangely among the trees. It would appear from behind a tree, jump up and down, and then dart back. After acting in this wild way for awhile, it made a dash for the barn door, where it 'materialized' in the watching eyes above as a very stalwart Indian, who had been acting in that way to tempt a shot if anyone was on guard at the barn. Seemingly satisfied that no one was around, and that he had everything to himself, he set his gun down by the door and began to work and pick at the padlock, and to use English 'cuss words' when it would not yield to his manipulations. In a few moments he was joined by two more Indians, who had been watching from within a few steps of the proceedings. They walked up to the barn door, and talking in a low tone, looked up toward the little window cut in the logs just above the door. Like the Colonel of Revolutionary fame, William 'waited until he could see the whites of the enemies' eyes, and then fired." At the signal George was at his side in a second, and, motioning him that it was time to shoot, they rested the muzzles of their guns between the logs and fired. Both Indians, mortally wounded, fell, got up and ran some distance. There were five in the party. Four ran to the north and one to the west of the barn. The former, by his groans, attracted friends who came and carried him off. The other was not heard from, and the boys supposed he was taken away, too. They reloaded their guns and took their places to await another attack, for they did not think the Indians would give up the fight without making another effort. Nor were they mistaken. As George was looking out on his side, next to the cow pen, he saw the cows very much disturbed, step aside very suddenly and give a wide berth to an object crawling on the ground.

FRIENDLY INDIAN TURNS BAD
"At first he thought it was a hog, as it grunted its way toward the barn, but upon closer inspection and knowing that the hogs could not get in on that side, he suspected that it was an Indian and raised his gun to give him a reception worthy of his mission. As he was taking aim the muzzle of his gun raked on the bark, making a slight noise. The quick ear of the Indian caught the sound, and he partly raised up, but he only made a better target of himself and received a ball and twenty-four buckshot in the breast, cutting in two a hair rope tied around his waist. He was tracked the next day by his blood to the place where he died, and where the Indians had found him and carried him off, but the continual whistling during the night made us all think they had not succeeded in finding all their dead.
"When George came back from Warren he brought back the doctor, several State rangers and the family of Green. The latter took their boy back to Warren for burial.
"As the men were waiting for dinner, some talking and others, who had been up all night, were trying to sleep, a shrill whistle was heard in the woods near the house. This brought every man to his feet and they were off into the woods in no time. A fleeting vision of a red man, clearing the ground by flying leaps two yards apart was all they saw, and they returned and commenced searching for the dead Indians. They found one of the first that was shot - the one that had run west of the barn and fallen dead without a groan.

A GRUESOME FIXTURE
"The men dragged him to the house and laid him out in state in the yard, inviting all to come to the funeral (no flowers). He was dressed in light marching order, a calico shirt and leather leggings, and as Dr. Rowlett came out with the other to take a last look at the deceased, he looked at him for a moment and then exclaimed: "Why, that is Cachatta Bill. He used to work for me, and my wife made that shirt he has on!"
A short time preceding the raid of which Miss Dugan writes in the above story, her brother, Daniel Dugan, Jr., was killed by an Indian while at work near the house. The wedding she was talking about with her sister Emily was her own, for she was engaged to a young Methodist preacher, the Rev. B.W. Taylor. They afterwards married and later moved to California, where she became known as a church worker and her husband was a prominent minister of the Methodist denomination.
The Dr. Rowlett spoken of in the letter was Dr. D. Rowlett, a prominent practitioner of medicine during the '40s and also a Congressman from the Red River District before Texas was a State. He also had charge of an Indian reservation, having collected a small part of the Cooshattees, and kept them on Red River near Warren.
The late Dan Dugan of Sherman, a great-nephew of the father of the Dan Dugan who was killed, in speaking of the raid to the writer, and the Indian's head was cut off and the skull remained on the place for many years, and that Mrs. Dugan, mother of the boy who was killed, used it on her spinning wheel, using it as a fixture to men a broken part.