We were camped on the hill near the Comanches, where we could overlook the entire battle-ground, as well as the Ute camp.  We dared not go near the Utes, for they were not at all friendly toward the pale-faces, and in case the Utes were victorious we would have to flee with the Comanches.

The day before the battle was to take place, Kiwatchee came and said to us: 

“To-morrow we will fight.”

We asked him how long he thought the battle would last.  Kiwatchee said he thought he could whip the Utes in one day.

The following morning about sunrise, just as we were eating breakfast, the two chiefs commenced beating their war-drums, which was a signal to call their men together.  The war-drum, or what the Comanches call a “tum-tum,” was made of a piece of hollow log about eight inches long, with a piece of untanned deerskin stretched over one end.  This the war chief would take under one arm and beat on it with a stick.  When the tum-tums sounded the first morning there was great commotion among the Indians.  At the first tap the war-whoop could be heard, and in a few moments both tribes of Indians were down at the little stream, each formed in line on his own side.

On arriving at the stream the tum-tums ceased and were not heard again till the Indians were formed in line of battle and each war-chief passed down in front of his men, after which they again commenced beating on the tum-tums, and at that the arrows began flying.

Now the fun had commenced in earnest, and of all the war-whoops I ever heard they were there, and the more noise the Indians made the harder they would fight.

After they had fought for about two hours they seemed to get more cautious than at the start, and would look for some advantage to take of the enemy.

They fought hard all day; sometimes the Comanches would cross over to the same side with the Utes, and I saw many hand-to-hand fights with tomahawks and knives.  At other times the Utes would cross over on the Comanche side of the stream, but would soon retreat again, and each side would resume their old position for a time.  About sunset both tribes withdrew, apparently by mutual agreement, each side returning to camp for supper.

I did not learn how many Comanches were killed that day, but there were some twenty odd wounded, and some of them fatally.  The night was made hideous by the shrieks and cries of the squaws and children of the warriors who had been killed or wounded during the day.

Neither tribe put out picket guards during the night.

The next morning about sunrise the war-chiefs were out beating on the tum-tums.  The warriors did not hasten around so briskly as the morning before, however, they were soon at the spot and ready for battle.