Charley Goodnight (as pioneers all called him) often visited in the 
            Lasater home, when the writer was a child. His mother Mrs. Sheek and 
            grandmother Lasater were neighbors at old Black Springs during the Indian 
            times. After grandmother lost her eyesight she made her home with the 
            writer's parents for years. Goodnight and other old-timers were thoughtful 
            to drop in to see her. It was through these visits the writer heard 
            much about pioneer life, Indian raids, etc. After some of these visitors 
            departed, the writer imagined she saw Indians every time she stepped 
          out after dark. 
          
          Map from the book, Panhandle Pilgrimage, by Pauline Durrett and R.L. Robertson 
          The writer remembers what Charley Goodnight said about his association 
            with Loving, and Grandmother Lasater often spoke of the details leading 
            to Loving's death. It was about 1858 when Loving headed a herd of 
            cattle for Chicago, on the first northward drive ever made from Texas. 
            In the Spring of 1859, he drove cattle to Colorado. It was after the 
            war that he formed a partnership with Charley Goodnight of Palo Pinto 
            County. In 1867, Loving lost his life on one of these drives to Colorado.
          While the herd was in New Mexico, Loving and one-armed Wilson, (so-called 
            because Wilson had only one arm) started on ahead of the herd, first 
            promising Goodnight that they would travel by night on accounts of 
            the Indians. But, after about two nights of traveling and having seen 
            no signs of Indians, they decided it was safe to travel by daylight. 
            On the third day they were attacked by about eighty Indians. In the 
            battle Loving was wounded in the arm. They had managed to secrete 
            themselves in a cave-like hole. It was so small there was hardly elbow 
            room for the men to handle their rifles. The two men were hardly settled 
            in the cramped position when the Indians opened fire. These two men 
            held the Comanches at bay until about sunset, when an Indian slipped 
            through a nearby canebrake and succeeded in wounding Loving. Wilson 
            poured lead into the canebrake, then turned to relieve his companion. 
            "They got me," stammered Loving. "Get out if you can 
            and save yourself, find Goodnight and tell him what has happened." 
            "One-armed Wilson" refused to go. He worked as fast as he 
            could in cramped quarters, trying to bandage Loving's wound with a 
            portion of his shirt. Then lying on his armless side with his six-shooter 
            in his hand, awaited the next move. There was a rustle in the cane 
            but not from Indians, in the fading light Wilson beheld a huge diamond-backed 
            rattlesnake which crawled out of the cane and headed directly for 
            the hole, The men shuddered as they realized that the snake was determined 
            to share their place of refuge. In a moment it stopped, coiled up 
            with its head a few inches from Wilson's knees. The two men lay speechless, 
            afraid to move a muscle. It was a mere question of choice of two evils-the 
            poisonous fangs or arrows. Their cramped muscles were almost unbearable, 
            cold perspiration stood on their brows. In about half an hour, which 
            seemed a lifetime to the two occupants of the cave-like hole, the 
            snake quietly glided its scaly body across Wilson's feet, raised its 
            head for a moment, then left the hole by the same sweet route it had 
            entered. Again, Loving urged Wilson to try to escape. After much hesitation, 
            Wilson agreed to go in search of help. Loving insisted that Wilson 
            take his rifle, saying, "It is the best of the two. Find Goodnight, 
            If I am not here upon your return, well-just tell the folks about 
            it."
          After loading every chamber of his cap and ball pistol, Wilson slipped 
            off his boots and pants and started crawling toward the river. When 
            he reached the river he soon learned that a one-armed man could not 
            make headway trying to swim and carry a rifle. He hid the guns and, 
            unarmed, cautiously paddled down the stream.
          Throughout the long night, Loving lay listening; queer noises haunted 
            him. The approach of day revealed to the cattleman the reason for 
            those noises he had heard through the night. The Indians had been 
            digging a tunnel through the sand toward his place of refuge, and 
            about twenty feet away, he saw an Indian busily digging in. With one 
            shot Loving killed the Indian. Several times during the forenoon the 
            Indians tried to reach him via trench, but after he had killed two 
            more warriors, they drew to higher ground nearby and began throwing 
            huge rocks into the hole, missing their mark each time. He lay all 
            day without food or water. The river was nearby but he dared not venture 
            out. Night brought a heavy rain which lessened his thirst, but rendered 
            his guns useless. He felt sure the Indians would make another attack 
            at daylight, but after waiting until the sun was well up and no signs 
            of an attack, he crawled out of the hole and staggered toward the 
            river. He tried to reach a point on the river where he knew the trail 
            herd would cross, but became exhausted and sank down in a clump of 
            bushes on the bank of the river. 
          Footsore and hungry, Wilson reached the Goodnight herd on the fourth 
            day. Goodnight and six of the men went to Loving's relief. They found 
            the hole marked by arrow spikes, also found Wilson's rifle, but no 
            sign of Loving. They searched the surrounding country to no avail. 
            They returned to the herd and continued the trial with heavy hearts 
            and bowed heads. 
          Enroute they met a man who told them that Loving was not dead but 
            doing nicely at Fort Sumner, where he had been brought by three Mexicans 
            and a white boy who were passing on their way from Mexico when they 
            encountered Loving. He paid them $ 250.00 to carry him to Fort Sumner.
          When Goodnight heard this report, he saddled a fresh mount and hastened 
            to Loving's bedside. He found him resting nicely, but in a few days 
            gangrene set up and an operation was necessary; then a second operation, 
            but in a few hours this brave, noble pioneer passed on. Before his 
            death he requested that he be sent back to Texas. There was difficulty 
            in securing a suitable casket and it was found necessary to bury him 
            temporarily in New Mexico, but as soon as Goodnight could freight 
            a metallic casket with a guard of six men, he began the slow, sad 
            march homeward over mountains and plains, where Oliver Loving had 
            driven one of the first herds ever driven from Texas. Among the guards 
            who accompanied the body back to Texas was the late W.D. Reynolds 
            of Fort Worth, Texas. After long, weary days and dreary nights the 
            body was delivered to the Jack County cattleman's family. Oliver Loving 
            rests today in the picturesque cemetery at Weatherford, Texas.
          Loving was recognized a leader among men, possessing varied traits 
            of character which were of special value in those days of constant 
            danger. He was one among the seven men who volunteered to find Bill 
            Willis and his band (who, with a party of Indians, murdered the Mason 
            and Cambren families in 1858) and bring them back to Jack County.
          More