It was about the first of January when Gen. Crook ordered Lieut. Jackson and I to go to California to buy fifty head of cavalry horses. With an escort of twelve men we headed for Los Angeles, expecting to be able to procure the horses there, which we did, and were back at Yuma in a little more than a month preparing to give Apaches more of our warm social attention. In this campaign Lieut. Jackson was to take the lead with two companies of cavalry and one of infantry, and take the same route as the season before. Gen. Crook was to follow in a month, taking no wagons, but a pack- train of one hundred animals. Only Mexicans were employed this time as packers, and the captain of our train was named Angel, but he didn't look it.
It was arranged between Gen. Crook and I that I was to have twelve scouts and select them myself. The General sent a sergeant with me to take the names of the men I wished to secure, and then he gave me permission to go into the corrall and select two horses for each of my men, taking anything that did not belong to a commissioned officer. In the afternoon of the same day Lieut. Jackson came to me and said: "Captain, I have a present for you if you will accept it. I want to give you Black Bess."
This was the beautiful mare that he rode the year before and of which I spoke previously.
It was a very acceptable present indeed, and I was surprised to learn that he would part with her, but he walked down to the stable and turned her over to me. He had never ridden her when going into a fight except the time of which I made mention when out on the scouting tour. He said to me: "She is too fine an animal for me, and if you will train her a little she will be a perfect companion to you."
This black mare proved to be the most intelligent animal that I had ever owned in my life, and there was nothing she seemed to dislike so much as the sight or even the scent of an Indian. Often when out scouting I have got off of her and let her feed at the end of a picket rope while I would lie down and sleep, and the moment she would see or scent anything strange she would come to where I was lying and paw until I would raise up and look in the direction of whatever object she had seen or heard, and in less than three months she was the pet of the entire command. She would follow me like a dog anywhere I would go.
We pulled out for the mountains, and went something like one hundred and fifty miles from Fort Yuma before making a halt for a permanent camp-this being the fore part of February, 1866-and as soon as we were fairly settled we began active work.
We had only been there a few days when George Jones came in and reported having seen the trail of a band of Indians coming from the direction of Black canyon. George, myself and four other scouts started out immediately to take the trail, which was ten miles south of our quarters. We camped on their trail that night on account of the country being too rough to travel after night, but the next morning we were off early and followed the trail all day. Just before sundown we halted on a high ridge, when I took a look through my glasses over the country. About twelve miles away I saw an Apache camp. The course they had traveled that day brought them about as near our quarters as where we had struck their trail, and from this I came to the conclusion that they were either looking for the command or were expecting an attack.
Now the country between us and the Indians was very rough, but I told the boys that we must get there that night, and as quickly as possible.
I could see the country between the Indians and headquarters, and they were not more than fifteen miles from there, although we were about twelve miles away, and about the same distance from the Indians.
Knowing that Lieut. Jackson would be anxious to hear from me, I sent one man back to camp to report to him, with instructions as to the course to move, also for him to throw up a rocket every mile or so, that I might know where to send my next messenger to meet him. Myself and the other four scouts started for the Indian camp, and it took two hours and a half the best we could do to reach it.
When we were within a quarter of a mile of them, that being as near as we thought it safe to ride, we dismounted, and leaving two men in charge of our horses, the other three of us started to crawl down to their camp, at least near enough to find out about their number.
They had not lain down for the night nor had they any guards out with their horses, but were sitting around the camp-fire smoking and apparently enjoying themselves.
No doubt if we could have understood their language they were then laying plans to capture the first emigrant train that might come that way. The moon was shining brightly, and we had a splendid chance to have stampeded their stock, but I did not think it best from the fact that it would put them on their guard, which would be to the detriment of the cavalry when they should arrive. We decided not to disturb them until the cavalry came up, knowing that the command would lose no time in getting there, and that it would be before daylight if it was possible.
We counted the horses of the Indians as best we could by moonlight, and made out eighty head of them. We could not make out just the number of Indians, but estimated them at seventy-five, After ascertaining as near as we could the lay of the ground and the general situation, we returned to our horses, and all started in the direction that we expected the command to come from. After we had ridden about a half mile I stopped, and George Jones started on with the other scouts to meet the command. After riding five miles they met Lieut. Jackson coming with two companies of cavalry and the entire scout force; and long before I expected them Black Bess told me by her actions that they were coming.
The Lieutenant formed his men in a triangle on the ridge, his object being to pocket the Indians; in other words, to bunch them up or prevent them from scattering. While he was forming his men and giving instructions, I told my men where the horses were and that we must get to them about the time the cavalry made the attack on the Indians. I told them that no doubt the horses would have ropes on them and the first one that I come to I would take him and lead the way. "And when you hear the first shot, all raise the yell, for by doing that we will be able to make the stampede, and if nothing goes wrong we will keep the stock going until we reach headquarters." When I got to the horses about the first one I stumbled onto was a white one, with a long hair rope on; I caught him and led the way, and he made a good leader for the others to follow.
We got to the horses a few moments before the soldiers got to the Indian camp, and at the first shot we all raised the yell, and as I led the white pony away all followed, and we did not halt until we were five or six miles off. Here we came to a small stream that meandered through a little valley. There we stopped awhile to let our horses drink and rest, and while there we counted our horses and found that we had seventy-eight.
We reached camp about six o'clock the next morning, but the soldiers did not get in until noon. When the fight was over the Lieutenant put out a strong picket guard and remained there until morning in order to catch the Apaches that might be secreted in the sage-brush.
When daylight came he succeed in jumping up eleven, which he considered ample pay for staying there a few hours. In this fight sixty-six Indians were killed, besides we got all their horses, blankets, ropes and such other articles as they had.
We did but little in the way of scouting for the next few days. Lieut. Jackson said that we had made a good beginning and we did not want to do much before Gen. Crook came. "For," said he, "we will have all the fighting we want when the General gets here."
The morning of the third day after the fight we started out with the entire scout force in squads of four, there being three squads, with the understanding that we were to keep in from one to three miles of each other, and all to camp together at night.
We took along with us four days' rations, but a scout is expected to live on four days' rations for eight days if it becomes necessary, for when he starts he never knows just where he is going or when he will return.
It was in the afternoon of the third day that I ran on to an Indian trail that appeared from the number of horse-tracks to be about twenty in the band. We could tell that they had passed there that day, so we followed the trail; and it was not long until the other two pulled in towards me, and we were soon near enough that I could signal to them, or they to me, and shortly we all met on the trail.
We had not followed long before we came in sight of the Indians riding leisurely along, and we then set it down that they were a band of Apaches on their way to the Oscuro Mountains for a hunt. They went into camp early that night on account of water, and after supper they amused themselves by running foot-races. I was tempted several times before dark to make a charge on them, but knowing that we could accomplish our end better by waiting until after dark, we held back until they had all turned in for the night. They did not lie down until about nine o'clock, and by this time the boys were all getting anxious for a fight. We waited about an hour after they had all lain down and then we started to crawl down to their camp. We agreed to use our knives and sabres, George Jones and I each having a big knife, all the rest having sabres.
Our idea for this was to prevent any of our own party from being shot accidently; but each man had his pistol in his left had with instructions not to use it except in case of emergency. We crawled into the camp undiscovered as the Indians had no dogs along to give the alarm.
Previous to this I had told the boys that I could crawl all over an Indian and not wake him up, and I came near demonstrating it that night. They were apparently asleep and badly scattered, two in a place.
I had told the boys not to strike until they saw that I was just in the act of striking; that when they saw me raise up for each man to spring to his feet and get his Indian the first lick if possible, and not to let up as long as they could see one kick.
It being bright moonlight we could see each other very plainly, and we crawled right in among them, there being no order whatever in their camp. When I came to where there were two lying with their backs together, I made up my mind that that was too good a chance for me to let pass; so I looked around to see if the boys had their men selected, and seeing that they had, and that they were all watching me and the Indians also, I raised to my feet, and placing my right foot between the two Indians, I aimed to sever the first one's head from his body, which I came near doing, for he only just quivered after I struck him. At that they all began the work of blood and death.
The second one I attacked I had to deal the second blow, as I also did the third one. Up to this time I had not heard a word from any one of my companions, but there had been a continual ringing of sabres all around me. Just as I had done up my last Indian George sprang to my side and said: "Cap, we have got every one of them." We counted them and found that we had killed twenty-two, and after examining their blankets and other "traps," we knew that we had got them all.
They had killed a fine buck deer during the day and had only cooked enough of it for their supper, so we had plenty of fresh meat, for a while, at least; so while George and some of the other scouts went for our horses, which were about a quarter of a mile from camp, the remainder of us built a fire and began roasting venison. This was the first fresh meat we had on the trip.
The morning following we gathered up the horses and found we had twenty-two, and we started two of the men to headquarters with them, and also sent a message to Lieut. Jackson to the effect that we were going in east of Black canyon to see what kind of a country it was. We were out seven days longer, making ten days in all, but we did not make any new discovery.
When we returned to headquarters I learned that Lieut. Jackson had received a dispatch from Gen. Crook, to the effect that he would soon be on with more supplies and men.
The Lieutenant advised me to work close to quarters, as the General was likely to be on any day, and said it was hard to tell what he would want to do when there.
After the events of the last chapter I remained in camp most of the time, and sent my assistants out in different directions, with orders to return the same day.
In ten days Gen. Crook made his appearance, with two companies of cavalry and one of infantry.
The next day after his arrival after having talked the matter over relative to Black canyon and the country surrounding it, he asked me how far it was to the noted place. I told him it was what we called fifty miles. The General said: "There is where I want to go. Those men I brought out with me are anxious for a fight. I brought them out here to fight, and I will see that they get it." He told me that the day following he wished me to accompany him to that country, saying: "You can take as many of your scouts along as you like, and I will make a detail of twenty men to do camp duty."
We started out the following morning for Black canyon, taking along my entire scout force. In the afternoon of the second day I piloted Gen. Crook to a high ridge, where, with his glasses, he could overlook the whole country. He could see Black canyon and the perpendicular wall of rock on the opposite side for miles and miles, in fact, as far as he could see with his glasses. After he had looked the country all over he asked me where we could get into the canyon. In answer to this question I said: "General it is easy enough to get into it, but the question is where to get out."
He said: "We surely can get out where we go in if we only have sense enough to keep our eyes open." So I told him that I would show him the next morning. We returned to camp and I started out on foot to find some fresh meat, and had gone but a short distance when I ran on to a band of wild turkeys, and killed two fat gobblers. Turkeys seemed to keep fat in that country the year around, as those that I killed were very fat. During the time I was out hunting George Jones had taken two other scouts and had made an entire circle of our camp, and not seeing any Indians or fresh sign we felt safe from any attack that night.
The next morning we did not move camp, but leaving the twenty men detailed for camp duty in charge of the camp and stock, I took my entire scout force to escort Gen. Crook to Black canyon. When we came to where the trail started down the bluff, he asked me how far I had been down. I told him about a mile, but did not let him know that Lieut. Jackson was with me at the time, knowing that the General wanted the glory of being the first officer to investigate and take in the situation of Black canyon. He asked me if it was safe for us to go down that far. I told him it was not at this time of day as we could not go that far and back without being seen by hundreds of Indians.
He decided not to look any further, but we returned to our camp and made preparations to start back to headquarters the next morning. He did not say anything to me as to what he thought of Black canyon that evening, but next day on our way back to headquarters he asked me if I thought there would be grass enough where we camped the night before for three or four hundred head of stock for three or four days. This led me to believe that he intended moving a part of his command to that place.
As soon as we were back at headquarters he told me that if any of the horses belonging to the scouts had shoes that needed resetting to have it attended to at once, and also told me to have the scouts pick out the very best horses for the trip.
During the time that these preparations were in progress, Lieut. Jackson in a private conversation told me that Gen. Crook was going to move up with a portion of the command near Black canyon and try to get into it. I told him that he could get in there easy enough, but had my doubts whether or not he would be able to get out with half the men he took in.
After having completed our preparations we pulled out for the Camp on the Mountain, this being the name given the camp by some of our men when we were out before, and I am told that the springs where we camped still go by that name. We started with two companies of cavalry and one of infantry, taking a pack-train to carry the supplies.
The first night at Camp on the Mountain Gen. Crook threw out a strong picket guard, and the next morning he told me to place my men both above and below the trail that they were to travel in descending the mountain into the canyon. I had examined this part of the country and was thoroughly posted in all the ways and by- ways of the Black canyon, which I knew the General was not, and I told him that there was no danger from above, from the fact that it was at least six miles to the next place where the Indians could climb the bluff, but this didn't seem to satisfy him, so I placed my scouts according to his directions. This, he said, was to protect his rear.
I took my stand farthest down the hill from any of the scouts, being about half way down, and had my men scattered along on the mountain side, both above and below. This I did so that in case any of my men should see danger from above they would report to me at once and I would report to Gen. Crook.
After I had my men all placed and was at my stand I saw two companies of cavalry coming down the bluff supported by one company of infantry. When they got to where I was stationed, it being what we termed a bench on the mountain, they halted, and Crook and Jackson held a council in which Lieut. Jackson advised Gen. Crook to send the infantry ahead as "feelers," but the General thought just the reverse, saying: "I will feel my way with the cavalry." So they started down the mountain single file.
After they had been gone about two hours, or it seemed that long to me at least, I heard the firing commence; but I could tell from the direction that they were not yet down to the foot of the mountain. The firing continued about an hour, but I could not get to see any of the battle, for I dared not leave my post for fear that some of the scouts might come to report to me, and in case I was away he would not know what to do.
At last I saw the cavalry coming back up the mountain, some on foot, some leading their horses, and a very few riding. The Indians were being held in check by the infantry in order to give the cavalry a chance to get out of the canyon with their horses.
As well as I can remember, in this fight Gen. Crook lost forty-two men killed, twenty-one wounded, and sixty horses killed.
That night I heard one sergeant ask another in the presence of Gen. Crook when the dead would be buried, but the question was not answered. The next morning the General told me to take as many men as I wanted and see if I could recover the dead bodies. I said. "General, if you will wait until night I will take my men and if there are any dead bodies left on the battlefield I will try and get them, but I do not propose to take my men and stick them up for a target to be shot at by the Indians when they have no show whatever, for I will not ask my men to go where I will not go myself."
He said: "Suit yourself about it," and turned and walked away.
That night I took my entire scout force, besides twenty soldiers that volunteered to go along, and descended the mountain. We worked hard all night, and all that we could find was twenty-one bodies, and that day they were buried, after which we commenced making preparations to return to headquarters.
Up to that time I had not had a chance to talk to Lieut. Jackson concerning the battle in Black canyon, as we had both been busy ever since. When on a march it was my custom to ride ahead of the army, so the morning that we were ready to start back I had given my orders to the scouts, had mounted, and was just ready to start, when Lieut. Jackson said: "Wait a minute, Captain, and I will ride with you."
The reader will understand that by this time the Lieutenant and I were as intimate friends as though we were brothers, and when he told me anything I could rely upon it, and I had always made it a rule to be punctual with him. If he would ask me a question I would always answer it the best I could, and if I asked him for any information, if he knew he would tell me. And here I would like to say that while Gen. Crook bore the name of being a great Indian fighter, I know for a fact that Lieut. Jackson planned more victories two to one than Gen. Crook did himself, and had it been in the Lieutenant's power to have kept those soldiers out of Black canyon, they never would have entered it.
That morning after we had ridden a short distance he mentioned the fight and said: "Cap, that was a horrible affair." I said: "Lieutenant it was not half as bad as I thought it would be, for when I saw you go down there I did not expect to see half of the boys come back." He said: "Had it not been for the infantry coming to our rescue just when it did not a horse would have come out of the canyon, and but very few soldiers."
I asked him where the next move would be and he said that Gen. Crook was going to return to the fort and we would go farther out on the road to protect the emigrants, who would soon begin to move toward California. For the next two or three days everything was undergoing a change around camp; rigging up packs and fitting up in general.
The soldiers who had their horses killed were mounted on the choice horses that we had captured from the Indians, which made very fair cavalry horses.
As soon as we had completed our arrangements Gen. Crook started back for Fort Yuma, much wiser than he came, while we pushed farther out on the Butterfield route, with two companies of cavalry and fifty infantry-men.
We traveled four days from our old camp before making a general halt. The evening of the fourth day just a short time before we were ready to go into camp the scouts came in and reported having seen a small band of Indians only a short distance west of us, and they said they had watched them go into camp.
I reported to the Lieutenant and he started with one company of cavalry after them, leaving orders for the command to go into camp at the next water, which was about a mile ahead of us. This proved to be a small hunting party, and they in some way discovered us before we got to their camp. When we came in sight of them we were about a quarter of a mile away from their camp and they had their horses all packed and were beginning to mount. We gave chase, but they had the start of us so that we only got two out of the band, but we crowded them so close that they had to leave their pack- horses, and we got all of them, there being twenty.
I captured a fine American horse that showed good breeding. He was a sorrel, with white hind feet and a white stripe on his face and branded C on the left shoulder. I made the Lieutenant a present of this horse, and he afterwards proved to be a very fast animal, as the Lieutenant told me several years after, that during the winter months he kept the soldiers nearly all broke with that horse. He told me that he proved to be the fastest half mile horse he ever saw.
The emigrants now begun to come along and we were kept busy night and day looking after the small bands of Indians that were continually making murderous forays in spite of all we could do to prevent.
With only three hundred soldiers and twelve scouts, and a country over one hundred miles in extent to guard, the service was exacting, and our lot was not altogether a happy one.
One day in July, in company with George Jones and John Riley, I started out in the direction of Black canyon to see if I could locate any small band of Apaches that might be prowling around. We traveled all day, and not seeing any Indians or sign of them, concluded to return to camp and get some much needed rest, and did so. It now seemed that there were no Apaches near us so I went to Lieut. Jackson's tent to report to him, intending to then lie down and rest for the day at least. He had just rolled out of bed, but he looked worn and haggard as if he had had a bad night of it. He asked me what news I had and I said good news, as we had seen no Indians or any fresh sign, but that I was worn out, having been almost constantly in the saddle for twenty-four hours. I asked him if he had any news and he said he had, and bad news too. The Indians had attacked a train in Choke Cherry canyon, burned all the wagons, but how many persons they had murdered or how many had escaped he could not tell me, as there were no scouts in camp at the time.
He wished so know if I could spare some men to go and bury the dead and locate the Indians. I replied that George Jones and John Riley were there, but that like myself, they were very much fatigued. He said he wanted them for another purpose. Then I offered two men, good and fresh, Jim Davis and Mike Maloney. But I had some uneasiness as to Mike. Not that there was any doubt about his bravery but he was so utterly incautious. However, I decided to go with them myself, as tired as I was. So as soon as I could get a bite to eat and a fresh horse saddled, we were off and on the way to Choke Cherry canyon.
Lieut. Jackson asked me when he could expect to hear from me. I told him that if I succeeded in locating the Indians in a body I would report to him at once, but if not he might not hear from me until my return. So we shook hands and he retired to his tent.
I directed Mike to go straight to the canyon and to keep on the east side until he came to the trail leading to Agua Caliente, and then take that trail direct for Sand Point; and when near the point to signal me by barking like a cayote, and that I would answer him by gobbling like a turkey; that he must meet me at Sand Point at three o'clock sharp, and if he was not there at that time I would know that something was wrong. I also told him to be careful and not run into an ambuscade, but above all not to be taken prisoner. Then I asked him if he could bark like a cayote. His answer was: "Sure, Captain, it's mesilf that can make a bloody cayote ashamed of himself bairking, and I belave ye's is afraid for me, but O'ill tell ye now there's no bloody Apache in all Arizony that's goin' to take this Irishman prisoner. I'm sure they don't want me schalp anyway, for me hair is too short."
I told Jim Davis to go to Wild Plum Ridge and then follow the trail to Sand Point, for him to signal me the same manner as Mike and I would answer him in the same manner.
Everything being understood between us we separated, each taking his appointed route, and I striking direct for the late emigrant camp. Before I got there, however, I ran onto the trail of apparently three Indians and concluded to follow them up. I had not gone a great distance away until I espied them in a little ravine a short distance away and they were having a scalp dance. I tied my horse secure from observation and then commenced to crawl upon them. They were circling two scalps that they had hung upon sticks stuck in the ground, every now and then drawing their bows as if going to shoot at them. I crept along cautiously, expecting that the Indians would be so absorbed in their scalp dance that I would get in close pistol shot before they discovered me; but in this I was mistaken, for when yet a long rifle shot away they espied me, and the moment I saw I was discovered I opened fire with both pistols, which caused them to flee in hot haste, leaving the two scalps hanging on the sticks. I went up to where they were and found that one scalp was that of a woman and the other that of a man.
I was now certain that there had been some emigrants murdered, and I soon made up my mind that about the first thing to do was to locate the bodies and bury them; but on consulting my watch I saw that I must hurry if I made Sand Point by three o'clock. Just as I had turned and started back to my horse, who should come up but Jim Davis. He had been trailing the Indians, which brought him over in my direction, and when he heard the shots he had come with all haste thinking that I was in trouble. We both turned and rode on to Sand Point, arriving there about half past three, but no Maloney was in sight, so after giving the signal agreed upon and receiving no answer, we made up our minds that he was in trouble, and we struck out to find his trail.
While we were on our way to hunt Maloney's trail Davis said: "Captain, I believe those Indians had two prisoners with them, and I think they are both women, judging from their tracks and other indications; see here what I found while I was trailing them." And he showed me two pieces of calico of different color. He thought that they had been dropped by the prisoners in the hope that some white person might find them and follow. He also said that there were small twigs broken off along the trail, which would indicate that they expected a search for them.
When Maloney left us he made direct for Sand Point, but before he reached there as he was riding along he discovered a small shoe track, he dismounted and tried to follow it, but it seemed that the tracks extended no farther. This confused him greatly, and he said to himself: "Be the loife of me it was only just there that I saw the thrack, and it's sure I am that she could not have flew away. Oh! here it is again, and begorra I belave it's the thrack of a white woman, for sure I am that no dhurty spalpeen of an Injun could iver make such a dainty thrack as that. Sure and I'll look in that bunch of brush, perhaps it's there she is, the poor crayther."
He made his way up to the brush cautiously with a pistol in each hand, and just as he peered in two Indians sprang upon him and grabbed his arms, which caused his pistols both to be discharged up in the air. They quickly bore poor Maloney to the ground and soon had him bound hand and foot. They then drove a stake into the ground and tied Mike to it, and began to gather brush for the fire. This did not suit him a bit, but all he could do was to hurl an avalanche of words at them, which, of course, they did not understand and to which they paid no heed.
"Ah, ye dhurty divils," said Mike. "Ye's have took me pistols both away from me. Ye's know I can't hurt ye's without me guns, so what's the use in ye's tyin' me like a hog, ye dhurty blackguards. Let me loose and Oi'll be afther lavin' ye's. Oi'll do it be the boots that hung on Chatham's Hill. I do belave they are goin' to burn me alive. O, ye bloody haythens; let me loose and Oi'll fight the pair of ye's if ye's have got me pistols."
The Indians by this time had the fire started, but Mike still retained his nerve, cussing the red fiends by all the powers in the Irish vocabulary.
Davis and I were pushing on with all possible speed in the direction of the place we expected to find Maloney's trail, when we heard two pistol shots in quick succession further up the canyon, so we put our horses down to their utmost in the direction from whence the sound of the shots came.
After running about two miles we came in sight of a small fire a short distance away that seemed to be but just kindled. We dashed up at full speed and found Mike tied to a stake and two Apaches piling brush on the fire. We fired at the Indians through the gathering darkness, but only killed one, and the other one made off about as fast as you ever saw an Indian go. Jim kicked the fire away from Mike and cut his bonds before he was burned to speak of. I asked him how he came to be taken prisoner by just two Apaches, and his story ran like this:
"Oi'll tell ye, Captain, it was on that sage-brush hill there while I was ridin' along I saw a thrack in the sand and sure I was that it was not the thrack of an Injun for it was a dainty little thing and the hollow of the foot didn't make a hole in the ground like an Apache's and Apaches niver wear shoes, aither. Well, I got off me horse and stharted to follow the thrack, and whin I got to that bunch of brush the dhurty rid divils sprang out on me like a pair of hounds, tied me hands and fate, and was tryin' to burn me aloive whin ye's came up."
"Well, Mike," said I, holding up the scalp of the Indian we had killed, "here is one Indian that will not bother you again, but be more careful next time."
We were all of the opinion that there was a woman alone somewhere in those hills that had escaped from the Indians when they burned the emigrant train, and we decided to keep up the search until morning; so we agreed on the following search: To separate about a quarter of a mile apart, and to commence circling a large hill or knob close by covered by a dense growth of sagebrush that in some places was as high as a man's head when he was on a horse, and every few rods to hallow, that in case she was secreted around there in hearing of us she would answer, and in case any one found her he was to fire two shots in quick succession, when the other two would go to him immediately.
We made almost the entire circuit of the hill, hallowing every little while, when I finally thought I heard a faint answer. I called again and then listened intently, and I was sure I heard an answer, after which I turned and rode in the direction from which the answer came. After riding a few rods I called again, when I heard the faint answer quite near, and I soon found a young girl of about eighteen years. She was overjoyed at seeing me, but was too weak to rise. I asked how she came there, and she said that the train in which her family was traveling had been attacked by the Indians. The people, or a part of them, had been murdered and the wagons burned, she and her younger sister had been taken prisoners, and when night came they were tied hand and foot and staked to the ground, and all laid down for the night.
"After we thought that the Indians were all asleep," she said, "I made a desperate effort and freed one of my hands, although it cost me a great deal of pain. After I was free I soon released my sister and we then ran for our lives. We had got but a short distance when the Indians discovered our absence, and raising the yell, started after us. My sister outran me and I soon hid in a little thicket and they missed me, but I fear they have overtaken her."
I asked her what her name was and she said it was Mary Gordon, and her father's name was Henry Gordon. He was sheriff of their county in Illinois for two years before starting west. I now fired the two shots to call Jim and Mike, and they were not long in getting there.
As soon as Mike came up he said: "Sure, Captain, and wasn't I after tellin's ye's that it was no bloody spalpeen of an Apache's thrack that I be follerin' lasht avenin'?"
Miss Gordon now seemed just to have realized that she was alone in a wild country, for she wrung her hands and said: "Oh! what shall I do in this desolate country without a relative or a friend; it would have been better if I had been killed when my poor father and mother were. O, kind sir, what will I do?" and she sobbed as if her heart would break.
I told her not to grieve, that we would protect her and see that she got safely to civilization, and that we would also try to find her sister. I asked her if she was not very hungry and she said she was, as she had eaten nothing for almost thirty-six hours. At that Mike said: "Sure, Captain, it's meself that has a pairt of me rations lift, and Oi'll go and get it for the poor crayther, and Oi'll bring the horses at the same toime," and he started off muttering to himself, "Ah, them Apaches, the dhirty divils; I'd like to kill ivery wan o' thim."
He soon returned with the horses, and handing me his rations, he said: "Sure, Captain, it's mesilf that thinks I'd better be afther takin' a look around here-abouts, as thim durty haythens might be afther playin' us the same game as they did me last evenin'." I told him it was a good scheme, that we might go up to the top of the hill and take a look as it was then most day, and if there were any Indians around they would be astir and that he had better let Jim Davis go with him, but he said no, for Jim to stay with me and the young lady and see that no "bloody blackguard of an Apache got her again," so I cautioned him to keep his ears and eyes open, and he struck out.
When Mike had gone Miss Gordon turned to me and asked my name. I told her my name was William F. Drannan, but I was better known on the plains as the Boy Scout.
"Oh, kind sir," she said, "are you the Boy Scout? I have often heard my father speak of you, and he said you were liable to put in an appearance when one least expected it. I thought of you a thousand times yesterday and to-night, but I had no idea that you were in a thousand miles of here."
I told her that I was at present scouting for Gen. Crook, who was at Fort Yuma, but that Lieut. Jackson, with three companies of soldiers, was stationed but a few miles west of us.
We had been waiting for Mike Maloney's return about two hours and were beginning to get uneasy about his delay and speculating as to what caused his absence so long, when we heard two pistol shots. This was always our signal to call a companion; so telling Jim to look after the young lady, I swung myself into the saddle and was off like the wind in the direction from whence the call, as I supposed it to be, came. It was now getting daylight, and when I got to the top of the hill I looked down to the south and I could see a fire. I did not hesitate, but went down that slope through the heavy sagebrush like smoke through the woods. As soon as I was near enough to distinguish objects around the fire I saw Mike bending over some object, and when I rode up to him, to my great surprise and delight, I saw it was a young girl. Mike was beside himself with excitement.
It appeared from his story that upon reaching the top of the hill after he had left us he came in sight of the fire and concluded to investigate; so riding down as near as he thought safe he tied his horse and commenced crawling. He soon saw that there were but two Indians and to his horror he saw that they had a white girl tied to a stake and were preparing to burn her. He crept up to within about twenty yards of them and fired, killing one of the Apaches, and as the other one turned to see what was up he fired again, killing the other one; then brandishing his pistol over his head he dashed up to the fire, exclaiming: "O, ye murtherin bastes, I'm avin wid ye's now; Oi'll learn ye's how to stake a poor divil down to the ground and thin try to burn him." Then he went up to the girl, cut her loose from the stake, and she raised up in a sitting posture, "Would ye's moind lettin' me help ye to yer fate, Miss?" said Mike. "O, I'm so tired and weak I can't stand," said the girl. "They have almost killed me dragging me over the cactus."
Just as I came in sight Mike fired two shots as a signal for us to come to him, but I was there almost before the echoes died away in the mountains. When I rode up Mike was most beside himself with glee; his tongue ran like a phonograph, and within five minutes he had given me the history of the whole transaction and had invoked a curse on the whole Apache tribe from all the saints in the calendar.
I told Mike that we had best get the girl on one of our horses at once and be off to where Jim and the other girl were, and from there on to headquarters, for there was no telling how many more of the red devils there might be lurking around. "Faith, Captain, and it's right ye are this toime, too," said Mike, "and it's me own horse she can ride, the poor damsel." So saying he led his horse up and we assisted the young lady to mount.
As soon as we were fairly started I asked the girl her name and she said it was Maggie Gordon. She also spoke of her sister having been taken prisoner along with her, and when I told her that Mary was safe, her joy knew no bounds. This news so revived her spirits that she talked quite freely with us on the way over to where Jim Davis and the other girl were. When we got to near where they were Mary looked up and saw us and exclaimed, "Oh! there's Maggie!" and when they met there was the most pathetic scene of greeting I ever witnessed.
As soon as they had a good cry in each others arms we gave Maggie something to eat, after which we put the girls, one on Jim Davis' horse and one on mine, and headed for camp, arriving there in the afternoon.
We did not go to the late emigrant camp, as we could do nothing toward burying the dead, burdened as we were by the two young women, so Lieut. Jackson sent a platoon of soldiers out to do that last act of charity.
There were four families besides the Gordon family murdered, and those two young ladies were the only ones that escaped, so far as we knew. When the next emigrant train came along we sent the Misses Gordon on to Fort Yuma, and from there they drifted on into California, and I never heard of them again.
We remained here for some weeks yet, piloting and escorting emigrants through the mountains, but having very few scraps with the Indians. When the emigrants quit coming and our provisions had run very low, we made preparations to return to Fort Yuma. But to make sure that no more of the crawling trains would be winding along that way this season, myself and another scout, with two days' rations, started on a little scurry eastward. But a tour of four days developed no further sign of emigrants or Indians, so the scout and I returned to find the command all ready to start. We were just about taking up the line of march for Yuma when a teamster on his way to Phoenix with a load of freight, drifted into camp and informed us to our horror, that the Indians had attacked the Davis ranch, killed the old man and his two sons, treated the old mother and the two daughters shamefully, and then pillaged the place and drove off all the stock.
I had no sooner ridden into camp that night than an orderly came and took my horse and said: "Lieut. Jackson wishes to see you at his tent immediately." I knew that there was something very unusual the matter or he would not have called me to his quarters until I had had my supper. On approaching his tent I saw that he was much excited. He told me what was up, and said it was strange the Indians would come down there that season of the year and commit such depredations as that. After he had laid the whole matter before me just as he had it from the teamster, he said: "Send the very best men you have on their trail." I told him I would go myself and take George and two other men with me.
I was convinced before finishing my talk with him that it was not the Indians that had committed the depredation, but that I kept to myself.
Just as I walked out of the Lieutenant's tent I met George and told him that we had a long night's ride before us, to pick out two of the best men we had, also to take the best horses—we had, and to change my saddle to Black Bess from the horse that I had been riding that day. I also gave orders to have everything in readiness by the time I was through supper, which did not take long, although I was very hungry. The boys were all on hand by the time I was through eating, and we mounted and rode away for the Davis ranch. The way we had to go to reach the ranch was about twenty miles down grade and inclined to be sandy all the way. We were all well mounted and we scarcely broke a gallop until we reached the Davis place.
A pitiful sight was there. The old lady and her three daughters had carried the old gentleman and two boys into the house and laid them out on benches in the best manner possible, and to say that it was a heart-rending scene does not begin to express it.
When I stepped into the house Mrs. Davis pointed to the dead bodies and said: "Captain, if you will avenge their death I will be a friend to you as long as I live." I told her that I would do all I could, that I was in a great hurry to get on the trail of the perpetrators, and I would like her to give me all the information she could relative to the matter.
She then led the way into a private room and related the whole circumstance, telling me how the Indians had come there, decoyed her husband and two sons to the barn and there shot them down, then rushed to the house, and before the inmate had time to shut and bar the door, came into the house, caught and tied her to the bed post, and then disgraced her three daughters in her presence. Then they gathered up all the horses and cattle about the ranch and drove them across the desert.
In the direction she said they had started it was eighty-four miles to water, but I did not believe for a moment that they would attempt to cross the desert in that direction.
After I had gained all the information I could, I said: "Mrs. Davis, those were not Indians, but Greasers or Mexicans, and I will capture them before twenty-four hours if I live."
I started one man back to camp to tell Lieut. Jackson to take the trail direct for Aw-wa-col-i-enthy, which in English means hot water, (Agua Caliente).
Lieut. Jackson had become over anxious as soon as we left and had started after us with one company of cavalry. My messenger met him five miles from the Davis ranch, and there he turned in the direction of Agua Caliente.
In starting out from the ranch I took the trail of the stock, and after we had gone quite a distance I called George to my side and told him it was not Indians we were following, but a crowd of cut- throat Greasers, and we didn't want to have a fight with them until the soldiers arrived if we could help it, but that we would fight them before we would allow them to escape.
I had never told George until now what all they had done, and when I related to him the whole affair he said: "We will not allow one of them to escape." We could see that they were turning in the direction of Agua Caliente and had made this circuit merely to throw any one off that might attempt to follow.
This was what I thought when I dispatched the Lieutenant to come to Hot Springs.
It was twenty-seven miles straight through on the road from the Davis ranch to Agua Caliente, but the way we went that night we supposed it was about forty miles, making sixty miles that we had to ride that night, while the soldiers if they started direct from camp would only have to travel thirty-five miles.
Finally the trail made a direct turn for Agua Caliente and I again "telegraphed" the Lieutenant to hurry up with all possible speed and try to reach the place before daylight, my object being to catch them in camp, as our horses would be too tired to run them down after they were mounted on fresh horses.
My second messenger did not see the Lieutenant at all on the road, for unbeknown to me he had started from headquarters soon after we did, and after having met my first courier, had pushed on with all possible haste.
When George and I were within a mile and a half of Agua Caliente we met some of the stock feeding leisurely along the direction of their old range. We examined them closely and found that they were the Davis stock.
We had not gone much farther until Black Bess raised her head, stuck her ears forward and commenced sniffing the air. I told George to watch her, and he said: "We must be near them." So we dismounted, took off our spurs, picketed our horses, and started cautiously towards their camp.
When we were within three hundred yards we could see the glimmer of their fires that had not entirely gone out, evidence that they had not gone to bed till late. We crawled so near that we could see the outlines of the fiends lying around the few coals that were yet smoldering. Now and then a chunk would blaze up as if to show the exact positions of the murderers.
After satisfying ourselves that this was the party we were in pursuit of, we returned to our horses.
I told Jones to mount his horse and not spare him until he met the soldiers; and to hurry them up so we could catch the Greasers in bed; and I said to him as he was mounting: "If you do not return with the soldiers before daylight I will take chances of holding them here with Black Bess until you do return." But he had not gone more than two miles and a half when he met the soldiers coming in a stiff gallop.
George reported that we had the outlaws located, and the Lieutenant gave orders for the soldiers to muffle their spurs and sabres and to be quick about it.
I did not have to wait long until Black Bess told me they were coming, for when they got near me I could not keep her still.
Upon the arrival of the soldiers I told Lieut. Jackson the particulars of the murder as given to me by Mrs. Davis, and also where the murderers were. He divided his men, sending fifty around on the opposite side of the camp, giving them half and hour to make the circuit, George piloting them, and I the other fifty. When the time was up we rode down, both squads arriving almost at the same time. Just one word from the Lieutenant and the Greasers were surrounded, and us with our pistols drawn.
The outlaws seemed to be sound asleep, but when we commenced to close in on them they woke, and the first one that jumped to his feet had his pistol in his hand, but when he looked around and saw the situation he dropped his pistol before the Lieutenant had time to tell him to drop it.
It was not yet daylight, but their being a very bright moon, one could see first rate. All the Mexicans were soon on their feet and begging for their lives. Lieut. Jackson being able to speak Mexican asked if any one in their crowd could speak English, but they said they could not speak a word in that language. He then asked them in Spanish who their Captain was, and a big, rough, greasy looking fellow said he was the Captain.
The Lieutenant then told him to form his men in line out on the road, saying: "I will give you five minutes to prepare to die." He then turned to his orderly and told him to relieve them of their arms, and they gave them up without a word of protest. He then told them all to stand in a line and when the five minutes were up they must die. During all this time their Captain was pleading for their lives and making all kinds of promises, but the Lieutenant turned a deaf ear to them, not even answering them.
When the five minutes were up the order was given, "Platoon No. 1, front face. Make ready. Take aim. Fire." And all of the scoundrels fell at the first round, although some of them had to be shot the second time to get them out of their misery.
This being done they were taken about a hundred yards away and buried in the sand.
By that time it was daylight and Lieut. Jackson made a detail of twenty-four men to assist George and I in driving the stock back to the Davis ranch. The rest of the company returned to, headquarters, but went by way of the Davis ranch to assist in burying the bodies of the old gentleman and the two sons. Lieut. Jackson told me that when he arrived at the ranch and saw the dead bodies and heard the sad story of the wife and mother and of her daughters, he said it was more than he could stand. He made a detail of six men to dig the graves and he returned to headquarters and moved the entire command down there and they all attended the funeral.
After the funeral was over Mrs. Davis called me to one side and said: "There is one more favor I wish to ask of you before you leave." I asked her what it was. She said as she was keeping a boarding-house she would have to keep travelers, and that she would like to have us leave a man to look after the stock until such time as she could get some one to work for her. I told her that if the Lieutenant did not object I would leave a man with her that would take as much interest in the stock as if they were his own, and that she would find him a perfect gentleman at all times.
I called Lieut. Jackson aside and mentioned the matter to him. He told me to leave a man and that he would also detail a man to stay, which he did then and there. I asked George Jones to stay, which he was willing to do.
Mrs. Davis asked us to send her a good, trusty man and she would pay him good wages, and she said she would write to her brother, who, when he came out, would close up her business there as quickly as possible, and they would return to the East.
Arriving at the fort and finding no idle men, Lieut. Jackson wrote to San Francisco for a man, and in about three weeks he came, and he proved to be a good one, as Mrs. Davis told me several years afterwards.
It was nearly a month after we arrived at the fort before George Jones came. The next day after he arrived he told me that he had just received a letter from his father, who was then living somewhere in the state of Illinois, and had written him to come home as he wanted to emigrate to Oregon the following spring, and wanted George to pilot the train across the plains and over the mountains to the country where big red apples and pretty girls were said to grow in such abundance.
George had made up his mind to accede to the wishes of his father, and as we had been there twenty-two months and both were tired of the business, and having made up my mind to quit the scouting field, I talked the matter over with George for two days and concluded to accompany him to San Francisco; so we went to Gen. Crook and told him we were going to quit and go away.
He asked what was the matter, if anything had gone wrong. We told him there was nothing wrong at all, but we were tired of the business and had made up our minds to quit. He said he was very sorry to have us leave, but if we had made up our minds to that effect there was no use saying any more. He asked me how many head of horses George and I had. I told him that there had been over one hundred head of horses captured, and that many of them had been used by the soldiers all summer, but if he would let George and I select thirty-five head from the band of captured horses he could have the rest of them. This he agreed to, so there was no falling out over that.
Having settled up with Gen. Crook and everything arranged, in a few days we were ready to start.
The day before our departure for San Francisco we went around and visited with all the boys in blue, telling them we were going to leave, and that for good. They expressed their regrets, but bade us bon-voyage and good luck for the future.
George Jones and I pulled out for San Francisco, via Los Angeles, this being the regular mail line at this time, and we made the trip to the City of the Golden Gate inside of a month.
As soon as we arrived at San Francisco we commenced selling our horses at private sale. We put up at what was known as the Fashion Stable, which was kept by a man by the name of Kinnear, whom we found to be a perfect gentleman, and who rendered us almost invaluable assistance in disposing of our horses. This was the first stable that was built on Market street. As soon as our horses were sold Jones boarded the steamer for New York. When we separated here, having been so intimately acquainted for so long, the separation was almost like that of two brothers, and we had not the least idea that we would ever meet again in this world.
I remained in the city three months, not knowing what to do or where to go. During this time I spent much of it in training Black Bess, as I found her to be a very intelligent animal, and she would follow me like a dog wherever I would go when she had the saddle on, and during that winter I taught her to perform many tricks, such as to lie down, kneel down, count ten, and tell her age. I could throw my gloves or handkerchief down and leave her for hours without tying her and she would stand there until I would return, and no one could come near them or take them away, nor would she allow a stranger to put his hand on her. One day I came to the barn and Mr. Kinnear asked what I would take to saddle Black Bess up and let her follow me to Wells, Fargo & Co.'s express office and back to the stable again without touching her on the way.
I said: "Mr. Kinnear, if it will be any accommodation to you I will have her follow me up there and back and it will not cost you anything."
"All right," he said, "about one o'clock come to the stable, for I have made a bet of fifty dollars with a man from the country, that you could make her follow you from the stable to Wells, Fargo & Co.'s express office and back to the stable and not touch her."
Wells, Fargo & Co.'s express office was a distance of eight blocks from the stable, and on my return I found quite a crowd there waiting to see the performance. I threw the saddle on the mare, put the bridle on her just as though I was going to ride, took my whip in my hand, and started down the sidewalk and the mare walked down the street. Montgomery street was always full of teams at this time of the day, and also the sidewalk crowded with people, but I walked near the outer edge. She would pick her way along the street among those teams as well, apparently as though I was on her back and at the same time would keep her eyes on me all the time. On arriving at the place mentioned, I took my handkerchief from my pocket and threw it down at the edge of the sidewalk, walked into the office and remained five minutes or more, and when I came out she was still standing with her head over the handkerchief as though she was tied. I picked the handkerchief up, started back down the sidewalk, and she took the street, keeping her eyes on me all the time until we reached the stable. The farmer was somewhat wiser, but about fifty dollars short in actual cash, but vowed he would not bet again on a man's own game.
On my return several different men asked me what I would take for her, but I informed them money would not buy her from me. Before putting her in the stable I had her perform several tricks, and then bow to the crowd, which by this time had grown to more than a hundred people.
I had now lain around so long that I had become restless, as it never did suit me to loaf about a town, so I concluded that I would try ranching. I had enough money to buy a good ranch and stock it, not thinking that it required any great amount of skill. So I started up the Sacramento river to look for one. After I was out most a month, this now being the last of February, 1867, I found stock looking well and found a man that wanted to sell out his stock and ranch. He had three hundred and twenty acres of land and one hundred and fifty head of cattle, some chickens, a few hogs, and a very few farming implements. After I had ridden around over the ranch several days and looked at his stock, and finding the range good, I asked his price. He wanted nine thousand dollars. I believed that this would be a nice quiet life, and although I did not know anything about raising stock, yet I thought I would soon catch on as the saying goes, so I made him an offer of eight thousand dollars, which offer he accepted. He was to leave everything on the ranch but his bed and clothing and a few little keep-sakes that he had about the house.
Now I started in to be an honest rancher, believing that all I would have to do was to ride around over the range occasionally and look after my stock, take things easy, and let my stock grow into money, as I had heard it said that stock would while one was asleep.
I stayed on this place until the spring of 1872, ranching with very poor success, by which time I had learned to a certainty that this was not my line.
When a man came along and wanted a cow I always sold him one. I would take his note for the price and, as a rule, that was all I ever got.
In the spring of 1875 a man named Glen came into that country from Jefferson county, Missouri, and to him I sold my entire possessions. I got out of that scrape by losing my time and one thousand dollars in money, but I had five years of almost invaluable experience in ranching and stock-raising.
In those days this was what we called a Mexican stand-off. I lost my time and money, but had my life left. Nothing occurred during this five years of my life more than the routine of business that naturally belongs with this kind of life, so I will pass over it. I had such poor success ranching that I don't like to think of it myself, much less having it told in history.
Leaving here I went to Virginia City, Nevada. This was in the palmy days of the Comstock, and everything was high. After looking around for a few days and seeing that horses were valuable, I started for Jacksonville, Oregon, to buy horses for the Virginia City market. On my arrival at Jacksonville I met a man by the name of John T. Miller, who was a thorough horseman, and was said to be a great salesman, which I knew I was not myself. I could buy, but I could not sell to advantage like some other men.
I formed a partnership with Miller, and we were not long in gathering up eighty-five head of horses in Jackson county and starting to market with them.
I was back to Virginia City in a few days over two months from the time I had left there, and Mr. Miller proving to be a thorough salesman, we soon disposed of our entire band at a good figure, and in less than one month from the time we arrived at Virginia City we were on our way back to Oregon.
After we returned to Jacksonville we settled up and had cleared eleven hundred dollars each on the trip. That beat ranching all hollow. Now Mr. Miller proposed to me that we go into horse raising. He said he knew where there was a large tract of swamp- land near Klamath Lake. Swamp and overflown land belonged to the state, and this swamp-land could be bought for a dollar an acre by paying twenty cents an acre down and twenty per cent yearly thereafter until it was paid.
Miller being a thorough horseman, I thought I might succeed better in the horse business than in cattle. So in company with him, I started over to look at the land, and being well pleased with the tract, I made application for it at once. This land was located just on the outer edge of the Modoc Indian reservation. Miller being acquainted with all the Modocs, he and I, after I had concluded to settle, rode down to Captain Jack's wick-i-up, which was a distance of two miles from where I proposed settling. Captain Jack was the chief of the Modoc tribe, and I found him to be a very intelligent Indian, and he made a very good stagger towards talking the English language.
When Mr. Miller introduced me to Chief Jack—or Captain Jack as he was called—and told him that I was going to be a neighbor to him, he said, "All right, that's good, and we be friends, too." I told him yes, and if the white men did not treat him well to let me know and I would attend to it. Jack then asked Mr. Miller where Mr. Applegate was, he being agent for the Modoc tribe, and lived in the neighborhood of Jacksonville, Oregon. Miller told him that he did not know. Jack said: "My people heap hungry and Applegate no give us anything to eat, no let us leave reservation to hunt; I don't know what I do."
Mr. Miller told Jack that he would see Applegate and tell him of their condition. The next morning Miller started back to Jacksonville and I remained on the land selected to be my future home.
Every few days Jack would come to my place to ask my advice as to what he should do, saying: "We no got anything to eat for three moons (three months). He tell me he come bring beef. He no come, no send beef." Finally Jack came to my camp one day and said: "I don't know what I do, no meat, no flour, wocus nearly all gone."
I told Jack that I would go home with him and see for myself, not knowing but that his complaints might be without foundation. I mounted my horse, and riding over with Captain Jack, my investigation proved to a certainty that he had been telling me the truth all this time, for they were almost destitute of anything to eat, there being nothing in the entire village in the line of provisions but a little wocus, or wild rice.
Jack said: "Agent no come next week and bring something to eat, I take all Injuns, go Tule Lake and catch fish. What you think?"
I said: "Jack, I do not know what to say, but you come home with me and I will give you one sack of flour and I have a deer there, I will give you half of that, and by the time you eat that up perhaps the agent may come with provisions." A few days later Jack came to my house and said: "Agent no come to-morrow, I go Tule Lake, take all Injuns. Plenty fish Tule Lake, easy catch them." To this I did not reply. I dare not advise him to leave the reservation, and at the same time I knew they were almost in a starving condition and were compelled to do something or sit there and starve; and here I would say that in this case Captain Jack was not to blame for leaving the reservation. I just state these few facts merely to show that while the Indians are as a general rule treacherous and barbarous, at the same time, in many cases no doubt similar to this one, they have been blamed more than was due them.
As the old adage goes, I believe in giving the devil his just dues, and I do not believe that Jack would have left the reservation at that time had he been supplied with provisions sufficient to live on.
I do not pretend to say whose fault this was, but merely state the facts as I know them.