In 1841 Jack Hays and his Texas Rangers caught up to Comanche raiders at Pinta Trail on the Guadalupe. (Wayne R. Austerman)

Dunn peered up to the crest of the south bank to a glorious sight—a dozen or more Texas Rangers, wreathed in powder smoke, their ramrods flashing in the sun as they sought new targets. Maybe he wasn't done after all

James Dunn thought his time had come, that this mild day in early 1841 would be his last. Hands bound and body lashed to the saddle of a Comanche pony, he glanced warily about him as his captors chivvied a herd of stolen mounts across the shallow ford of the Guadalupe River at the Pinta Trail Crossing, 45 miles north of San Antonio, in the Republic of Texas. Only the day before, Comanche Chief Yellow Wolf and 80 warriors had struck the western fringes of town, killing two Hispanic citizens and a black sheepherder before happening upon the Irish emigrant as he herded his own flock of woolies. Only his lush mane of coppery red hair had saved him from a quick lance thrust. The Comanches had not seen such hair before and were awed by the sight of a man presumably favored by the Great Spirit and possessing strong medicine. But Dunn expected to lose his favored status at any moment.

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Yellow Wolf's raiding party was moving north from San Antonio along the ancient trace of the Pinta Trail, which had long served as a route through the Hill Country for Indians, Spanish and Mexicans. The warriors were driving the horses and mules toward their home village in the hills well above the Guadalupe and Colorado rivers. Several warriors had ridden close alongside Dunn and stroked his head in wonder, but that didn't keep the captive from worrying about his scalp. The raiding party paused at the river to allow its mounts and plundered herd to drink, and then, in late afternoon, the band started up the north bank. Suddenly, a thunderous volley of gunshots filled the cleft of the river channel, and rifle balls knocked several Comanches to the ground. Dunn peered up to the crest of the south bank to a glorious sight—a dozen or more Texas Rangers, wreathed in powder smoke, their ramrods flashing in the sun as they sought new targets. Maybe he wasn't done after all; James Dunn felt the thrill of hope. That's what the very sight of Rangers could do for pioneers who braved the Texas frontier.

James Dunn had arrived in San Antonio by March 1840 and was on hand at the Council House Fight, a pitched battle that broke out on the town's streets in the wake of heated negotiations with visiting Comanche chieftains. In that conflict, Dunn shot to death a warrior who was attempting to kill John James, a prominent local surveyor and rancher. By 1841 Dunn was herding sheep, which ordinarily would be a peaceful occupation. But on the Texas frontier, the Comanches pledged peace to no man.

The officer who led the troop of Texas Rangers at Pinta Trail Crossing—much to Dunn's delight—was John Coffee "Jack" Hays. The 24-year-old Tennessee native had lived in Texas since 1836, periodically following his profession as a surveyor, but spending more and more of his time in service with the Rangers. He had started as a gentleman private but was now captain of his own company. Hays was a veteran of fights with hostile Indians, Santa Anna's invading soldados and border bandidos. On this winter day in 1841, Hays meant to see more Comanche blood darken the crystal flow of the Guadalupe.

With bullets whizzing everywhere, Dunn's thrill of hope was replaced by the bleak realization that a Ranger bullet could just as easily strike him as one of the warriors who milled about him in momentary panic. Chief Yellow Wolf shouted for his braves to hold position in the ford long enough to retrieve their dead and wounded comrades. Finally, the Comanches quirted their ponies out of the shallows and up the gentle slope of the Guadalupe's north bank. Cresting the rise, they thundered free of the river's cypress-lined channel onto the open plains.

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