WE LOCATE A SMALL BAND OF RED BUTCHERS AND SEND THEM TO THE HAPPY
HUNTING GROUNDS.--EMIGRANTS MISTAKE US FOR INDIANS.--GEORGE JONES
WOUNDED.
Just at sunrise we made our appearance at the Lieutenant's
quarters, and he informed us that the Indians had made an attack
on the settlement on the east side of the San Antonio desert; had
killed two families, taken two little girls prisoner and captured
a lot of stock from the settlers.
This report had first reached Gen. Crook at Fort Yuma, and he had
dispatched the news to Lieut. Jackson. This being a strange
country to the Lieutenant, having never been over it and knowing
that I had been through it twice, once with Uncle Kit Carson and
another time in company with Jim Beckwith, he insisted on my going
out in that section to investigate the matter and see whether or
not the report was true.
The day following George and I started with four assistants for
the settlement. Each of us took two saddle horses and one pack
animal for each two men, with ten days' rations. From there to the
settlement was about seventy-five miles.
Knowing just where the majority of the Apache force was
concentrated, we took rather a circuitous route in-stead of going
direct to the settlement in order to ascertain whether the
depredations were committed by Apaches or Pimas.
The fifth day out we struck the settlement, but did not cross the
Indian trail, which led me to think that the work was done by
Pimas and not Apaches.
When we arrived there no one could tell us how many Indians there
were nor what they looked like, but when I came to find out the
truth of the matter there had been no families massacred, nor had
the two girls been taken prisoners, but there had been two boys
killed that were herding stock.
We remained there one day in order to learn what we could in
regard to the trouble and then struck the trail of the Indians and
followed it two days, but it was so old that we gave it up, as it
was then twelve days since the depredations were committed and we
knew that the Indians were a long ways off by that time. We took a
different route on our return, and the second day we saw a small
band of Indians traveling toward the settlement, which we had left
four days previous. We started in pursuit of them and struck their
trail before it was dark. I was confident that they would camp at
the first water they came to, which was about seven or eight miles
from there, so we staked our horses out on good grass, sat down
and ate our lunch while we waited for the clear moon to make its
appearance and light us across the country where we might find the
noble red men of the plains and entertain them for a while at
least. We thought that it would take us about all night to track
them up by the light of the moon, find their camp and play them
just one little tune of "How came you so?"
About ten o'clock the moon arose, but we waited until it was two
hours high, giving our horses a chance to fill up, after which we
mounted and took the trail of the Pimas, which we had not great
trouble in finding.
After we had followed the trail about seven miles we came to their
horses, but could see no signs of any camp, and we at once made up
our minds that the Indians were not far away, but that they had
either built no fire or the fire had gone entirely out, for we
could see no signs of any.
Dismounting, George took one man with him and I took one with me,
leaving the other two with the horses, and started out in
different directions to look for their camp. After wandering
around about an hour I found where they were camped, and they were
sound asleep and lying in a row but each one separate. We then
returned to our horses and in a short time George came in. It was
now getting high time that we were at work, for it was beginning
to get daybreak, so after I had explained how they laid, five of
us started for them, leaving one man with the horses. They were
lying about two hundred and fifty yards from where we had stopped
with our horses. We crawled up abreast until within ten feet of
the Indians, and each scout drew both his revolvers, sprang to his
feet, and I need not say that we made quick work of those
redskins. Only one got to his feet, and he did not stand a second
until there were three or four bullets in his body, but not one of
us got a scratch in this fight.
Now the fun was over and we were not afraid to speak out, so we
called out for the man that we left in charge of our horses to
bring them over, and we gathered some wood and built a fire.
It had been several days since we had had fresh meat, but the
Pimas had been kind enough to kill an antelope that day, and as
they had only eaten of it once, we had a feast that morning, which
we enjoyed very much.
We gathered up the guns and ammunition that belonged to the
Indians, which, by the way, was the best armed lot of Indians I
had ever seen. Each one of them had a good rifle and a Colt
revolver, and one of them had the handsomest knife I ever saw. Had
we not run on to them no doubt they would have done some devilment
in the white settlement the following day. We reached headquarters
in three days.
It was now time for the emigrants to begin to travel over the
Butterfield route, and Lieut. Jackson started one company of
cavalry across to the opposite side of the mountain some sixty
miles away to protect the emigrants, and George Jones and I both
accompanied them. We established our quarters about a half mile
from the road at the foot of the mountains on the south side.
The next day after we struck this place George and I started out
to scout over the country to see whether or not there were any
Indians in the country and also ride out on the road and look for
emigrants.
The second day out we climbed to the top of a high ridge, and by
looking through the glass we could see a large emigrant train
coming, which we thought to be about twenty miles distant. We knew
very well where it would camp, and by riding briskly we would be
able to meet it by dark; so we rode on and reached the emigrants
about sunset. They were just corralling their wagons for the
night, and when they saw us coming they took us for Indians and
every man went for his gun. As soon as we saw them start for their
guns we both took off our hats and waved them over our heads, when
they saw that they were needlessly alarmed. This train was from
Texas, and the name of the captain was Sours, and it was beyond
doubt the best organized train I ever saw on the plains;
everything seemed to move like clock work.
When I told Capt. Sours who we were and what our business was and
that as soon as they got to our quarters they would have an
escort, he said: "I am indeed very glad to know that there is some
protection out here for emigrants, but as for ourselves we do not
need it much, for every man in my train has seven shots, and some
of them three times that number."
We stayed with them that night and the next morning pulled out for
our quarters. We remained there for a month, but did not see any
Indians during that time.
At the end of the month there came along a large train from
Arkansas and Texas. We escorted it across the mountains expecting
that this would wind up the emigrant travel across there for the
season. When we arrived at Lieut. Jackson's quarters he started
George and I and two other scouts out towards the Salt river
valley settlement, telling me that he would move down near Mrs.
Davis' ranch and there he would wait until he should hear from me.
The third day out we made camp early on account of water, and
after deciding on the spot where we should pitch our camp for the
night George rode off to a high ridge near by to take a look over
the country. He was not gone long before he made his appearance
riding at full speed, and announced that there was a large band of
Indians coming direct for our camp, and would be on to us before
we could saddle up and get away.
"Get your horses boys," were his first words, and every man made a
rush for his horse, but before we could get saddled the Indians
hove in sight, and not over half a mile away.
"There they are," said George as he jumped on to his horse again,
"and there must be at least sixty of them."
I was not long in making up my mind what to do. We all got our
horses saddled and were mounted just in the nick of time to get
away for we were not twenty yards from camp when they were close
on to us.
Down the ravine we went with the Apaches in hot pursuit of us. I
yelled out to the boys to turn to the left across the ridge and
when we were over the turn we stopped and gave them a volley, and
picked off the leaders as they came in sight. I saw a number of
them fall, but it did not appear to check them in the least. They
were coming too thick and we wheeled and were off again with some
of them within at least thirty yards of us, but we gained on them
gradually. Finally George Jones sang out: "I am shot through the
arm." I reined my horse up by his side and asked if his arm was
broken. He said it was, and I could see it was hanging down and
the blood almost streaming off his fingers. I asked if he felt
sick, and he said he did not.
Of course all the time this conversation was going on we were
putting our horses down to their utmost. George said; "I am all
right if I don't get another shot," so I told him to take the lead
and not to spare his horse. I also told the other boys to fall
back to the rear so we could protect him, as he was badly wounded
and the Indians were holding their own pretty well.
On looking ahead I saw another little ridge and I told the boys
that when we were over that to all turn and give them two shots
each, and for each to be sure to get his Indian. This order was
carried into effect and they were so near us that I think each
shot did its work. This brought them to a halt and they did not
crowd us any more; it was soon dark and we escaped without any
further mishap.
After we could hear no more of them we rode to the top of a ridge
where we would have a chance to protect ourselves in case of
another attack, and dismounted to ascertain the extent of George's
wound, and as the excitement died down he commenced feeling sick
at his stomach. I gave him a drink of whiskey from a bottle that I
had carried in my canteen at all seasons, and this was the second
time the cork had been drawn from the flask. When we got his coat
off and examined his wound we found that the arm was broken just
below the elbow. Using our handkerchiefs for bandages, we dressed
the hurt as best we could, corded his arm to stop the flow of
blood and then pulled out for headquarters, arriving there just at
daybreak.
I took George to the surgeon, who set the bone and dressed the arm
up "ship shape," after which he gave him something to make him
sleep.
After seeing George in bed I at once repaired to the Lieutenant's
quarters and found him just arising. He asked me if I was too
tired to make another chase, and I told him I would be ready as
soon as I could eat my breakfast. He said in one hour's time he
would have two companies of cavalry ready to start.
After breakfast I changed horses, and taking four other scouts,
started out to pilot the cavalry to where we could take the trail
of the Indians. On this trip each scout took four days' rations,
and about one o'clock that afternoon we struck a plain trail that
we followed at a lively gait until nearly dark; the scout force
riding from one to two miles ahead so in case we should get in
sight of the reds we could telegraph back to the command, or
should the Indians attempt to give us another chase we might be
able to run them up against the soldiers, where they would find
amusement for a while.
We followed them for two days but never got sight of them. They
had turned and made their way back in the direction of Black
canyon and we gave up the chase, but we were sure that in the
running fight we had with them that evening we had killed at least
thirteen, as we found that many newly made graves when we went
back to take their trail.
We returned to headquarters and I found George doing splendidly,
and the next day we all pulled out for Fort Yuma. The first day's
travel took us to Mrs. Davis' This was the first time I had seen
her or any of her family since the next day after the funeral of
her husband and two sons in the fall of 1866.
Mrs. Davis insisted on George staying there with them until his
arm was well, which kind and hospitable offer he accepted,
remaining two months. We put in our time that winter as usual when
wintering at the fort, doing nothing.