An Apache Campaign In The Sierra Madre

IN THE SIERRA MADRE

toy

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY

This short but fascinating chronicle writ
ten by an eye-witness and participant,
tells the story of the United States Army's
1883 campaign against the Apache In
dians in the Sierra Madre. Out-of-print
and virtually unprocurable for many
years, it unites in its pages three famous
figures in Western history Geronimo,
the Apache; General George Crook, the
greatest of our Indian-fighting soldiers;
and John Gregory Bourke, one of the most
sympathetic and best-informed writers on
American Indian ethnology.

Captain Bourke, in addition to scholar-

CONTINUED ON BACK FLAP

KANSAS CITY. MO. PUBLIC LIBRARY

DUE

Dsmco, Inc. 38-293

stacks 970.1 B77a

Bourke, John Gregory,

1846-1896.

An Apache campaign in

the Sierra Madre; an

C1958]

970.1 B77a 5
Bourke, John Gregory $2-75
An Apache campaign in the
Sierra Madre. Scribner.
1886.

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

AN APACHE

CAMPAIGN

In the Sierra Madre

AN ACCOUNT OF THE EXPEDITION

IN PURSUIT OF THE HOSTILE

CHIR1CAHUA APACHES

IN THE SPRING OF 1883

JOHN G. BOURKE

CAPTAIN THIBD CAVALRY, U.S. ABMY

Introduction by
J. FRANK DOBIE

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS New York

1958 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

All rights reserved. No part of this book
may be reproduced in any form without
the permission of Charles Scribner's Sons.

A.6-57[v]

Printed in the United States of America
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number 58-11571

CAPTAIN JOHN G. BOURKE
AS SOLDIER, WRITER AND MAN

BY J. FRANK DOBEE

V.4APTAIN John G. Bourke under
stood the Apache people and the Apache coun
try. He knew the Apaches also other tribes
men as a soldier, as a scholar, and as a man
with eager sympathies for nearly all things hu
man except greed, fraud, and injustice, against
which his righteous indignation burned until
the fire of his own life went out.

While An Apache Campaign is an independ
ent unit of writing, it illuminates and is illumi
nated by certain other works written by
Bourke. It had been published serially in Out
ing Magazine in 1885 before it was issued as a
book the next year by Charles Scribner's Sons.
Bourke's chief work, On the Border with
Crook, was also published by Scribner's in
1891. This remains one of the dozen or maybe
only half-dozen most illuminating and most

5

INTRODUCTION

readable interpretations of the Southwest of
pioneer days yet published. Although about a
third of the book deals with General Crook's
campaigns against the Sioux, Cheyennes and
other horse Indians to the north, the Apaches,
the Mexicans, the early-timers, and always
the natural features of Apache land live through
the pages. In 1892 the Bureau of American
Ethnology published Bourke's The Medicine
Men of the Apache probably the meatiest
thing that has appeared on medicine men of
any American tribe.

During nearly a quarter of a century on duty
as a soldier in the Southwest, Bourke was ab
sorbing as well as studying the land and its
natives. He wrote on "The Folk-Foods of the
Rio Grande Valley and of Northern Mexico"
and on "Popular Medicine, Customs and Super
stitions of the Rio Grande/' He contributed
ten papers to the American Anthropologist and
was president of the American Folklore Society
when he died. His first book ( 1884, published
by Scribner's) was The Snake-Dance of the
Moquis of Arizona, the pioneer work on that
subject. A student of world folkways, he saw
the Apache medicine men not as an isolated
species but through the Arabian Nights as
translated and annotated by Richard F, Burton,

INTRODUCTION

through Robert Burton's Anatomy of Melan
choly and through scores of other works in vari
ous languages. The title of his most learned
work, Scatalogic Rites of All Nations (Wash
ington, D. C., 1891) suggests his range and
catholicity. He had an urbane perspective,
understood relationships and kinships.

Not many scholars of Bourke's latitude and
altitude have kept the charm and vividness of
his first-person narrative. He was freest as a
writer when he could exercise his sense of
humor. He belonged in the tradition of hu
manistic-scientific army officers who, beginning
with Lewis and Clark, charted the Western
wilderness not only as to geography but as to
flora, fauna, and native tribes. On the Border
with Crook is dedicated to Francis Parkman
"by his admirer and friend." Other scholar-
writers whose names are written into the his
tory of the West and who were friends with
Bourke include Frank Hamilton Gushing of the
Zunis, Washington Matthews of the Navajos,
John Wesley Powell, first understander of the
desert west, Jesse Walter Fewkes, George A.
Dorsey, and, last of their line, Frederick W.
Hodge, who outlived Bourke more than fifty
years.

The chief available facts on Bourke's life are

7

INTRODUCTION

in his historical narratives already named and
in generous selections from his notebooks ed
ited with biographical sketch and bibliography
by Lansing B. Bloom and published serially
under title of "Bourke on the Southwest" in
the New Mexico Historical Review (Vols.
VIII-XIII, 1933-1938, and Vol. XIX, 1944).

John Gregory Bourke was born in Philadel
phia, June 23, 1846, his father and mother
having come over from Ireland as bride and
groom about eight years preceding. They were
of the upper class, "practical Catholics," with
fine linens and liberated minds. Their children
a girl and a boy in addition to John were
brought up in a home of love and books and
on the maxim "that a gentleman was ever
noble; that his nobility was most surely proved
by his quiet, unostentatious kindness to the
suffering, and that one of the first Christian
duties was to Visit the sick and bury the dead/ "
At the age of eight Bourke was put to studying
Greek, Latin and Gaelic.

He ran away from home in 1862 soon after
his sixteenth birthday and enlisted in the 15th
Pennsylvania Cavalry, serving with it as private
throughout the Civil War. He was in various
actions. Soon after being mustered out of the
service (July, 1865) he was appointed cadet
8

INTRODUCTION

in the Military Academy at West Point, whence
he graduated in June 1869, the eleventh in a
class of thirty-nine. He was later invited back
to West Point to teach languages, but declined.

Commissioned 2nd lieutenant, he was as
signed at once to the 3rd Cavalry, with which
he remained, except when on special duty, the
rest of his life. His first post was Fort Craig,
on the Rio Grande, from which in January,
1870, he set out for Old Fort Grant in Arizona
"the most forlorn parody upon a military
garrison in the most woe-begone of military
departments." It was only fifty-five desert miles
southward a hard day's ride, two days' march
to Tucson.

Tucson, in which the Shoo-Fly restaurant
and the Congress Hall Saloon stood out as
prominent institutions, was a mere village, but
it was also "the commercial entrepot of Ari
zona and the remoter Southwest, the Mecca of
the dragoon, the Naples of the desert." Not long
after Brigadier General George R. Crook ar
rived in Arizona (1871), Bourke became his
aide-de-camp and remained in that intimate
position with "my great chief" for many years.
On campaigns he acted as adjutant-general and
again as engineer officer. A promotion to first
cajne in 1876; another to captain in

9

INTRODUCTION

1882. During all these years he was active in
the field most of the time. He had a year off
(1881-1882) in which to investigate the man
ners and customs of the Pueblo, Navajo and
Apache Indians just before taking part in an
other Apache campaign. Next he took a year's
leave of absence to marry and travel in Europe,
visiting museums especially. He was with
Crook when Geronimo made his final surrender
in March, 1886. In this same year he was "or
dered" to Washington to study and to write out
his voluminous notes. He remained on this as
signment for five years the most productive of
his life so far as writing goes. He was fifteen
days short of being fifty years old when he
died June 8, 1896.

Only one other writer who penetrated the
Southwest during Indian days and "unlocked
his word-hoard" on it had gusto, spirit, seeing
eyes, hearing ears and power of expression
comparable to Bourke's. He was an army of
ficer also (British) but younger and not so
ripe: George Frederick Ruxton, who wrote that
incomparable book of travels, Adventures in
Mexico and the Rocky Mountains (1847) and
Life in the Far West (1848), still quoted by
everybody writing on the Mountain Men. These
two primary chroniclers had imagiiiation and
10

INTRODUCTION

a sense of style as well as knowledge. Men of
action and also of books and thought, both saw
violence; but it would never have occurred to
either to worship it and thereby to enter into
the well-paying kingdom populated by "West
erns/*

Bourke knew the right tempo of this land of
intense sun, where shaded repose was and is
supremely valued even in the most violent
times. A passage from On the Border with
Crook and an anecdote from his published
notebooks will illustrate not only tempo but
humor.

In answer to the inquiry of a stranger in
Tucson, came this reply: "You want to find the
Governor's? Wa'al, podner, jest keep right down
this yere street past the Palace sloon, till yer
gets ter the second manure-pile on yer right;
then keep to yer left past the post-office, V
yer'll see a dead burro in th* middle of th* road,
V a mesquite tree 7 n yer lef , near a Mexican
'tendajon 7 (small store), V jes' beyond that *s
the Gov/s outfit. Can't miss it. Look out fur
th' dawg down to Munoz's corral; he *s a salvi-
ated son ov a gun/'

"Judge Charlie Meyers of Tucson was a terror
to evil-doers and an upright, conscientious ad-

11

INTRODUCTION

ministrator of justice, although he knew scarcely
any law. Being afraid of assassination, he kept
in his house after dark. One night in response
to a terrible knocking, he roused, raised the lit
tle shutter from a hole he had cut in his front
door, and demanded to know who is there.
" 'Me, Jedge/

" 'And who are you, mine frent?'
" 'Jedge, I want to give myself up. I've just
killed a man/

" Vot you keel him for?'
* 'He called me a liar en I '
** 'Vare you keel him?'

"'Down in George Foster's Quartz Rock
Gambling Saloon' (a notorious deadfall).

" Vary goot, mine frent, dot's all right/ said
the judge soothingly. 'Dot's all right. Go now
unt keel unudder von/ Then he turned back to
bed/
His going-out nature, helped by his lingu
istic brightness, enabled Bourke to talk with
every man in his own language. An Apache
scout might be unwilling to give his name to a
stranger, but he'd give it to this comrade who
was also comrade to the general. Bourke was
detailed to use his Spanish in a Pan-American
Congress; he laughed with the Mexican serv
ants on the border. He was always wanting to
12

INTRODUCTION

enter the doors of life that he saw ajar. The
Apache scouts are having a sweat bath; Bourke
must have it with them. Their medicine men
are making big medicine; he must sit with
them, absorbing lore to go into his pictured
pages.

Ethnologists usually write about man or the
races of mankind. Bourke wrote about particu
lar men, letting them represent tribes, classes.
To him every Apache was an individual. Mod
els of pictorial specification are common in his
writings. Take this from An Apache Campaign.

"All night long the Chiricahuas and the
Apache scouts danced together in sign of peace
and good-will. The drums were camp-kettles
partly filled with water and covered tightly
with a well-soaked piece of calico. The drum
sticks were willow saplings curved into a hoop
at one extremity. The beats recorded one hun
dred to the minute, and were the same dull,
solemn thump which scared Cortez and his be-
leagured followers during la Noche triste. No
Caucasian would refer to it as music; neverthe
less, it had a fascination all its own comparable
to the whir-r-r of a rattlesnake."

Nobody else has left such luminous sketches
of army men at the little forts and camps in
Apache days as Bourke. Take his pictures of

13

INTRODUCTION

Captain Russell, an Irishman who had ad
vanced from the ranks, who read science with
out assimilating it and expressed "moi private
opinyun that de whole dam milleetery outfit is
going to hell."

"A nice little lunch was spread in an adjoin
ing tent, to which any one could repair at
pleasure. There was much pleasant converse,
story-telling, a little singing and a great deal
of drinking. Lieut. Robinson and I being the
junior 'subs' and also the 'staff' of the Battalion,
were selected to make the toddies. Neither of
us had been trained as a bartender and of
course some little preliminary instruction was
necessary to enable us to prepare toddies that
would pass the inspection of gentlemen of such
extended experience in that line as those whom
we were serving. We made up in assiduity
what we lacked in education; our first effort
was pronounced a dead failure; our second was
only a shade better. Our third extorted signs of
approval. They came rather slowly or reluc
tantly from the lips of Captain Russell: 1 de
clare to God! moighty, Mister Robinson, dat's
a moighty fine tod-dee; oi tink it wud be a good
oidee to put a little more sugar in soak.* "

You can always judge a man by what he ad
mires. Bourke admired General Crook enor-
14

INTRODUCTION

mously and must have been distinctly influ
enced by him. Crook was about the only
Indian-fighting general of the West worthy of
admiration. Self-righteous O. O. Howard, glory-
seeking Custer, Chivington, who was only a
colonel but who excelled in pretenses to piety
and in brutality, puffed-up Miles, who betrayed
good Apaches and Crook both and who lied to
the nation these and some others of their kind
seem trivial and base compared to Crook, who
was noble and who looms noble in Bourke's
noble book.

Books about the West that can be so desig
nated are not numerous, but a high percentage
of those that are noble show a strong sym
pathy for wronged Indians and moral indigna
tion a virtue that has almost disappeared
from the so-called free enterprise newspapers
of America against the wrongers. Crook never
relented against the white "vampires" prey
ing on Indians and triving in times of In
dian troubles. He classified most Indian agents
as vampires. So did Bourke. All the troubles
with the Chiricahua Apaches, Bourke said,
could be traced to rot-gut whiskey sold them
by "worthless white men." Bad as a bad Indian
might get, Crook held, "I have never yet seen
one so demoralized that he was not an example

15

KSrmODUCTION

in honor and nobility compared to the wretches
who plunder him of the little our government
appropriates for him."

They were both men of strong feelings, de
cently governed, always on the side of decency
and justice. It may be that his forthright stands
and expressed opinions kept Bourke from rising
above the rank of Captain during his third of a
century as a soldier. Upon reading, in 1881,
that the tyrannical Czar of Russia had been as
sassinated, Bourke recorded: "This was a good
thing ... I hope before many months to be
able to chronicle the assassination of Bismarck,
one of the coldest-blooded and most unprin
cipled tyrants who have ever sprung into
power." Another diary record of the same pe
riod reads in part: "President Hayes made such
an ado about reform in the administration of
the government that some people four years
ago were deluded into believing that he was
honest in his expressions, but a uniform duplic
ity and treachery have convinced the nation
that something besides Appolinaris water at a
state dinner or an unctuous outpouring of sanc
timonious gab at all times is needed to make a
man holy/'

Bourke remains very modern.

May, 1958

W

AN
APACHE CAMPAIGN

.1.

WITHIN the compass of this vol
ume it is impossible to furnish a complete dis
sertation upon the Apache Indians or the causes
which led up to the expedition about to be de
scribed. The object is simply to outline some
of the difficulties attending the solution of the
Indian question in the Southwest and to make
known the methods employed in conducting
campaigns against savages in hostility. It is
thought that the object desired can best be ac
complished by submitting an unmutilated ex
tract from the journal carefully kept during the
whole period involved.

Much has necessarily been excluded, but
without exception it has been to avoid repeti-

17

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

tion, or else to escape the introduction of infor
mation bearing upon the language, the religion,
marriages, funeral ceremonies, etc., of this in
teresting race, which would increase the bulk
of the manuscript, and, perhaps, detract from
its value in the eyes of the general reader.

Ethnologically the Apache is classed with
the Tinneh tribes, living close to the Yukon
and Mackenzie rivers, within the Arctic circle.
For centuries he has been preeminent over the
more peaceful nations about him for courage,
skill, and daring in war; cunning in deceiving
and evading his enemies; ferocity in attack
when skilfully-planned ambuscades have led
an unwary foe into his clutches; cruelty and
brutality to captives; patient endurance and
fortitude under the greatest privations.

In peace he has commanded respect for keen-
sighted intelligence, good fellowship, warmth
of feeling for his friends, and impatience of
wrong.

No Indian has more virtues and none has
been more truly ferocious when aroused. He
was the first of the native Americans to defeat
in battle or outwit in diplomacy the all-con-
18

AN" APACHE CAMPAIGN

quering, smooth-tongued Spaniard, with whom
and his Mexican-mongrel descendants he has
waged cold-blooded, heart-sickening war since
the days of Cortez. When the Spaniard had
fire-arms and corselet of steel he was unable to
push back this fierce, astute aborigine, provided
simply with lance and bow. The past fifty
years have seen the Apache provided with
arms of precision, and, especially since the in
troduction of magazine breech-loaders, the
Mexican has not only ceased to be an intruder
upon the Apache, but has trembled for the
security of life and property in the squalid
hamlets of the States of Chihuahua and Sonora.
In 1871 the War Department confided to
General George Crook the task of whipping
into submission all the bands of the Apache
nation living in Arizona. How thoroughly that
duty was accomplished is now a matter of
history. But at the last moment one band
the Chiricahuas was especially exempted from
Crook's jurisdiction. They were not attacked
by troops, and for years led a Jack-in-the-box
sort of an existence, now popping into an
agency and now popping out, anxious, if their

19

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

own story is to be credited, to live at peace
with the whites, but unable to do so from lack
of nourishment.

When they went upon the reservation, ra
tions in abundance were promised for them
selves and families. A difference of opinion
soon arose with the agent as to what consti
tuted a ration, the wicked Indians laboring
under the delusion that it was enough food to
keep the recipient from starving to death, and
objecting to an issue of supplies based upon
the principle according to which grumbling
Jack Tars used to say that prize-money was
formerly apportioned, that is, by being thrown
through the rungs of a ladder what stuck be
ing the share of the Indian, and what fell to
the ground being the share of the agent. To
the credit of the agent it must be said that he
made a praiseworthy but ineffectual effort to
alleviate the pangs of hunger by a liberal dis
tribution of hymn-books among his wards.
The perverse Chiricahuas, not being able to
digest works of that nature, and unwilling to
acknowledge the correctness of the agent's
arithmetic, made up their minds to sally out
20

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

from San Carlos and take refuge in the more
hospitable wilderness of the Sierra Madre. Then-
discontent was not allayed by rumors whis
pered about of the intention of the agent to
have the whole tribe removed bodily to the
Indian Territory. Coal had been discovered on
the reservation, and speculators clamored that
the knd involved be thrown open for develop
ment, regardless of the rights of the Indians.
But, so the story goes, matters suddenly reached
a focus when the agent one day sent his chief of
police to arrest a Chiricahua charged with some
offense deemed worthy of punishment in the
guard-house. The offender started to run
through the Indian camp, and the chief of police
fired at him, but missed his aim and killed a
luckless old squaw, who happened in range.
This wretched marksmanship was resented by
the Chiricahuas, who refused to be comforted
by the profuse apologies tendered for the acci
dent. They silently made their preparations,
waiting long enough to catch the chief of po
lice, kill him, cut off his head, and play a game
of football with it; and then, like a flock of
quail, the whole band, men, women, and chil-

21

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

dren 710 in all started on the dead run for
the Mexican boundary, one hundred and fifty
miles to the south.

Hotly pursued by the troops, they fought
their way across Southern Arizona and New
Mexico, their route marked by blood and dev
astation. The valleys of the Santa Cruz and
San Pedro witnessed a repetition of the once
familiar scenes of fanners tilling their fields
with rifles and shot-guns strapped to the plow-
handle. While engaged in fighting off the
American forces, which pressed too closely
upon their rear, the Apaches were attacked in
front by the Mexican column under Colonel
Garcia, who, in a savagely contested fight,
achieved a "substantial victory/' killing eighty-
five and capturing thirty, eleven of which total
of one hundred and fifteen were men, and the
rest women and children. The Chiricahuas
claim that when the main body of their warriors
reached the scene of the engagement the Mexi
cans evinced no anxiety to come out from the
rifle-pits they hastily dug. To this fact no
allusion can be found in the Mexican com
mander's published dispatches.
22

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

The Chiricahuas, now reduced to an aggre
gate of less than 600 150 of whom were war
riors and big boys, withdrew to the recesses
of the adjacent Sierra Madre their objective
point. Not long after this the Chiricahuas
made overtures for an armistice with the Mex
icans, who invited them to a little town near
Casas Grandes, Chihuahua, for a conference.
They were courteously received, plied with
liquor until drunk, and then attacked tooth and
nail, ten or twelve warriors being killed and
some twenty-five or thirty women hurried off
to captivity.

This is a one-sided description of the affair,
given by a Chiricahua who participated. The
newspapers of that date contained telegraph ac
counts of a fierce battle and another "victory"
from Mexican sources; so that no doubt there
is some basis for the story.

Meantime General Crook had been reas
signed by the President to the command of the
Department of Arizona, which he had left
nearly ten years previously in a condition of
peace and prosperity, with the Apaches hard
at work upon the reservation, striving to gain a

23

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

living by cultivating the soil. Incompetency and
rascality, in the interval, had done their worst,
and when Crook returned not only were the
Chiricahuas on the war-path, but all the other
bands of the Apache nation were in a state
of scarcely concealed defection and hostility.
Crook lost not a moment in visiting his old
friends among the chiefs and warriors, and by
the exercise of a strong personal influence,
coupled with assurances that the wrongs of
which the Apaches complained should be
promptly redressed, succeeded in averting an
outbreak which would have made blood flow
from the Pecos to the Colorado, and for the
suppression of which the gentle and genial tax
payer would have been compelled to contribute
most liberally of his affluence. Attended by
an aide-de-camp, a surgeon, and a dozen
Apache scouts, General Crook next proceeded
to the southeast corner of Arizona, from which
point he made an attempt to open up communi
cation with the Chiricahuas. In this he was un
successful, but learned from a couple of squaws,
intercepted while attempting to return to the
San Carlos, that the Chiricahuas had sworn ven-

24

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

geance upon Mexicans and Americans alike;
that their stronghold was an impregnable posi
tion in the Sierra Madre, a "great way" below
the International Boundary; and that they sup
plied themselves with an abundance of food by
raiding upon the cattle-ranches and "hacien
das" in the valleys and plains below.

Crook now found himself face to face with
the following intricate problem: The Chirica-
huas occupied a confessedly impregnable posi
tion in the precipitous range known as the
Sierra Madre. This position was within the
territory of another nation so jealous of its
privileges as not always to be able to see clearly
in what direction its best interests lay. The
territory harassed by the Chiricahuas not only
stretched across the boundary separating Mex
ico from the United States, but was divided
into four military departments two in each
country; hence an interminable amount of jeal
ousy, suspicion, fault-finding, and antagonism
would surely dog the steps of him who should
endeavor to bring the problem to a solution.

To complicate matters further, the Chirica
huas, and all the other Apaches as well, were

25

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

filled with the notion that the Mexicans were a
horde of cowards and treacherous liars, afraid
to meet them in war but valiant enough to de
stroy their women and children, for whose
blood, by the savage's law of retaliation, blood
must in turn be shed. Affairs went on in this
unsatisfactory course from October, 1882, until
March, 1883, everybody in Arizona expecting a
return of the dreaded Chiricahuas, but no one
knowing where the first attack should be made.
The meagre military force allotted to the de
partment was distributed so as to cover as many
exposed points as possible, one body of 150
Apache scouts, under Captain Emmet Craw
ford, Third Cavalry, being assigned to the ar
duous duty of patrolling the Mexican boundary
for a distance of two hundred miles, through
a rugged country pierced with ravines and
canons. No one was surprised to learn that
toward the end of March this skeleton line had
been stealthily penetrated by a bold band of
twenty-six Chiricahuas, under a very crafty
and daring young chief named Chato ( Spanish
for Flat Nose).
By stealing fresh horses from every ranch

26

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

they were successful in traversing from seventy-
five to one hundred miles a day, killing and de
stroying all in their path, the culminating point
in their bloody career being the butchery of
Judge McComas and wife, prominent and re
fined people of Silver City, N. M., and the ab
duction of their bright boy, Charlie, whom the
Indians carried back with them on their re
treat through New Mexico and Chihuahua.

It may serve to give some idea of the cour
age, boldness, and sublety of these raiders to
state that in their dash through Sonora, Ari
zona, New Mexico, and Chihuahua, a distance
of not less than eight hundred miles, they passed
at times through localities fairly well settled
and close to an aggregate of at least 5,000 troops
4,500 Mexican and 500 American. They
killed twenty-five persons, Mexican and Ameri
can, and lost but two one killed near the Total
Wreck mine, Arizona, and one who fell into the
hands of the American troops, of which last
much has to be narrated.

To attempt to catch such a band of Apaches
by direct pursuit would be about as hopeless a
piece of business as that of catching so many

27

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

fleas. All that could be done was done; the
country was alarmed by telegraph; people at
exposed points put upon their guard, while de
tachments of troops scoured in every direction,
hoping, by good luck, to intercept, retard, may
hap destroy, the daring marauders. The trail
they had made coming up from Mexico could,
however, be followed back to the stronghold;
and this, in a military sense, would be the most
direct, as it would be the most practical pursuit.

Crook's plans soon began to outline them
selves. He first concentrated at the most eli
gible position on the Southern Pacific Railroad

\ViUcox all the skeletons of companies

which were available, for the protection of
Arizona.

Forage, ammunition, and subsistence were
brought in on every train; the whole organiza
tion was carefully inspected, to secure the re
jection of every unserviceable soldier, animal,
or weapon; telegrams and letters were sent to
the officers commanding the troops of Mexico,
but no replies were received, the addresses of
the respective generals not being accurately
known. As their co-operation was desirable,

28

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

General Crook, as a kst resort, went by rail
road to Guaymas, HermosiUo, and Chihuahua,
there to see personally and confer with the
Mexican civil and military authorities. The
cordial reception extended him by all classes
was the best evidence of the high regard in
which he was held by the inhabitants of the
two afflicted States of Sonora and Chihuahua,
and of their readiness to welcome any force he
would lead to effect the destruction or removal
of the common enemy. Generals Topete and
Carbo soldiers of distinction the governors
of the two States, and Mayor Zubiran, of Chi
huahua, were most earnest in their desire for
a removal of savages whose presence was a
cloud upon the prosperity of their fellow-citi
zens. General Crook made no delay in these
conferences, but hurried back to Willcox and
marched his command thence to the San Ber
nardino Springs, in the south-east corner of the
Territory (Arizona).

But serious delays and serious complications
were threatened by the intemperate behavior
of an organization calling itself the "Tombstone
Rangers," which marched in the direction of the

29

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

San Carlos Agency with the avowed purpose
of "cleaning out" all the Indians there congre
gated. The chiefs and head men of the Apaches
had just caused word to be telegraphed to
General Crook that they intended sending htm
another hundred of their picked warriors as an
assurance and pledge that they were not in
sympathy with the Chiricahuas on the warpath.
Upon learning of the approach of the "Rangers"
the chiefs prudently deferred the departure of
the new levy of scouts until the horizon should
clear, and enable them to see what was to be
expected from their white neighbors.

The whiskey taken along by the "Rangers"
was exhausted in less than ten days, when the
organization expired of thirst, to the gratifica
tion of the respectable inhabitants of the fron
tier, who repudiated an interference with the
plans of the military commander, respected and
esteemed by them for former distinguished
services.

At this point it may be well to insert an
outline of the story told by the Chiricahua
captive who had been brought down from the
San Carlos Agency to Willcox. He said that
30

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

his name was Pa-nayo-tishn (the Coyote saw
him); that he was not a Chiricahua, but a
White Mountain Apache of the Dest-chin ( or
Red Clay) clan, married to two Chiricahua
women, by whom he had had children, and with
whose people he had lived for years. He had
left the Chiricahua stronghold in the mountain
called Pa-gotzin-kay some five days' journey
below Casas Grandes in Chihuahua. From that
stronghold the Chiricahuas had been raiding
with impunity upon the Mexicans. When pur
sued they would draw the Mexicans into the
depths of the mountains, ambuscade them, and
kill them by rolling down rocks from the
heights.

The Chiricahuas had plenty of horses and
cattle, but little food of a vegetable character.
They were finely provided with sixteen-shooting
breech-loading rifles, but were getting short of
ammunition, and had made their recent raid
into Arizona, hoping to replenish their supply
of cartridges. Dissensions had broken out
among the chiefs, some of whom, he thought,
would be glad to return to the reservation. In
making raids they counted upon riding from

31

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

sixty to seventy-five miles a day as they stole
fresh horses all the time and killed those aban
doned. It would be useless to pursue them, but
he would lead General Crook back along the
trail they had made coming up from Mexico,
and he had no doubt the Chiricahuas could be
taken by surprise.

He had not gone with them of his own free
will, but had been compelled to leave the reser
vation, and had been badly treated while with
them. The Chiricahuas left the San Carlos be
cause the agent had stolen their rations, beaten
their women, and killed an old squaw. He as
serted emphatically that no communication of
any kind had been held with the Apaches at San
Carlos, every attempt in that direction having
been frustrated.

The Chiricahuas, according to Pa-nayo-tishn,
numbered seventy full-grown warriors and fifty
big boys able to fight, with an unknown number
of women and children. In their fights with the
Mexicans about one hundred and fifty had been
killed and captured, principally women and
children. The stronghold in the Sierra Madre
was described as a dangerous, rocky, almost in-
32

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

accessible place, having plenty of wood, water,
and grass, but no food except what was stolen
from the Mexicans. Consequently the Chirica-
huas might be starved out

General Crook ordered the irons to be struck
from the prisoner; to which he demurred, say
ing he would prefer to wear shackles for the
present, until his conduct should prove his sin
cerity. A half-dozen prominent scouts promised
to guard him and watch him; so the fetters
were removed, and Pa-nayo-tishn or "Peaches,"
as the soldiers called him, was installed in the
responsible office of guide of the contemplated
expedition.

By the 22d of April many of the preliminary
arrangements had been completed and some of
the difficulties anticipated had been smoothed
over. Nearly 100 Apache scouts joined the com
mand from the San Carlos Reservation, and in
the first hours of night began a war-dance,
which continued without a break until the first
flush of dawn the next day. They were all in
high feather, and entered into the spirit of the
occasion with full zest. Not much time need be
wasted upon a description of their dresses; they

33

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

didn't wear any, except breech-clout and moc
casins. To the music of an improvised drum
and the accompaniment of marrow-freezing
yells and shrieks they pirouetted and charged in
all directions, swaying their bodies violently,
dropping on one knee, then suddenly springing
high in air, discharging their pieces, and all the
time chanting a rude refrain, in which their own
prowess was exalted and that of their enemies
alluded to with contempt. Their enthusiasm
was not abated by the announcement, quietly
diffused, that the medicine men had been hard
at work, and had succeeded in making a "medi
cine * which would surely bring the Chiricahuas
to grief.

In accordance with the agreement entered
into with the Mexican authorities, the Ameri
can troops were to reach the boundary line not
sooner than May 1, the object being to let the
restless Chiricahuas quiet down as much as
possible, and relax their vigilance, while at the
same time it enabled the Mexican troops to get
into position for effective co-operation.

The convention between our government
and that of Mexico, by which a reciprocal cross-
34

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

ing of the International Boundary was con
ceded to the troops of the two republics, stipu
lated that such crossing should be authorized
when the troops were "in close pursuit of a
band of savage Indians," and the crossing was
made "in the unpopulated or desert parts of
said boundary line/' which unpopulated or des
ert parts "laad to be two leagues from any en
campment or town of either country." The
commander of the troops crossing was to give
notice at time of crossing, or before if possible,
to the nearest military commander or civil au
thority of the country entered. The pursuing
force was to retire to its own territory as soon
as it should have fought the band of which it
was in pursuit, or lost the trail; and in no case
could it "establish itself or remain in the foreign
territory for a longer time than necessary to
make the pursuit of the band whose trail it had
followed/*

The weak points of this convention were the
imperative stipulation that the troops should
return at once after a fight and the ambiguity
of the terms "close pursuit/* and "unpopulated
country/* A friendly expedition from the United

35

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

States might follow close on the heels of a party
of depredating Apaches, but, under a rigid
construction of the term ''unpopulated/' have
to turn back when it had reached some miser
able hamlet exposed to the full ferocity of sav
age attack, and most in need of assistance, as
afterwards proved to be the case.

The complication was not diminished by the
orders dispatched by General Sherman on
March 31 to General Crook to continue the pur
suit of the Chiricahuas "without regard to de
partmental or national boundaries/ 7 Both Gen
eral Crook and General Topete, anxious to have
every difficulty removed which lay in the way
of a thorough adjustment of this vexed ques
tion, telegraphed to their respective govern
ments asking that a more elastic interpretation
be given to the terms of the convention.

To this telegram General Crook received re
ply that he must abide strictly by the terms of
the convention, which could only be changed
with the concurrence of the Mexican Senate.
But what these terms meant exactly was left
just as much in the dark as before. On the 23d
of April General Crook moved out from Will-
36

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

cox, accompanied by the Indian scouts and a
force of seven skeleton companies of the Third
and Sixth Cavalry, under Colonel James Biddle,
guarding a train of wagons, with supplies of
ammunition and food for two months. This
force, under Colonel Biddle, was to remain in
reserve at or near San Bernardino Springs on
the Mexican boundary, while its right and left
flanks respectively were to be covered by de
tachments commanded by RaEerty, Vroom,
Overton, and Anderson; this disposition afford
ing the best possible protection to the settle
ments in case any of the Chiricaliuas should
make their way to the rear of the detachment
penetrating Mexico.

A disagreeable sand-storm enveloped the col
umn as it left the line of the Southern Pacific
Railroad, preceded by the detachment of
Apache scouts. A few words in regard to the
peculiar methods of the Apaches in marching
and conducting themselves while on a cam
paign may not be out of place. To veterans of
the campaigns of the Civil War familiar with
the compact formations of the cavalry and in
fantry of the Army of the Potomac, the loose,

37

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

straggling methods of the Apache scouts would
appear startling, and yet no soldier would fail
to apprehend at a glance that the Apache was
the perfect, the ideal, scout of the whole world.
When Lieutenant Gatewood, the officer in com
mand, gave the short, jerky order, Ugashe Go!
the Apaches started as if shot from a gun, and
in a minute or less had covered a space of one
hundred yards front, which distance rapidly
widened as they advanced, at a rough, sham
bling walk, in the direction of Dos Cabezas
( Two Heads ) , the mining camp near which the
first halt was to be made.

They moved with no semblance of regular
ity; individual fancy alone governed. Here was
a clump of three; not far off two more, and scat
tered in every point of the compass, singly or
in clusters, were these indefatigable scouts,
with vision as keen as a hawk's, tread as untiring
and as stealthy as the panther's, and ears so
sensitive that nothing escapes them. An artist,
possibly, would object to many of them as un
dersized, but in all other respects they would
satisfy every requirement of anatomical criti
cism. Their chests were broad, deep, and full;
38

i

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

shoulders perfectly straight; limbs well-propor
tioned, strong, and muscular, without a sugges
tion of undue heaviness; hands and feet small
and taper but wiry; heads well-shaped, and
countenances often lit up with a pleasant, good-
natured expression, which would be more con
stant, perhaps, were it not for the savage, un
tamed cast imparted by the loose, disheveled,
gypsy locks of raven black, held away from the
face by a broad, flat band of scarlet cloth. Their
eyes were bright, clear, and bold, frequently ex
pressive of the greatest good-humor and satis
faction. Uniforms had been issued, but were
donned upon ceremonial occasions only. On the
present march each wore a loosely fitting shirt
of red, white, or gray stuff, generally of calico,
in some gaudy figure, but not infrequently the
sombre article of woollen raiment issued to
white soldiers. This came down outside a pair
of loose cotton drawers, reaching to the mocca
sins. The moccasins are the most important ar
ticles of Apache apparel. In a fight or on a long
march they will discard all else, but under any
and every circumstance will retain the mocca
sins. These had been freshly made before leav-

39

AH APACHE CAMPAIGN

ing Willcox. The Indian to be fitted stands erect
upon the ground while a companion traces with
a sharp knife the outlines of the sole of his foot
upon a piece of rawhide. The legging is made
of soft buckskin, attached to the foot and reach
ing to mid-thigh. For convenience in marching,
it is allowed to hang in folds below the knee.
The raw-hide sole is prolonged beyond the great
toe, and turned upward in a shield, which pro
tects from cactus and sharp stones. A leather
belt encircling the waist holds forty rounds of
metallic cartridges, and also keeps in place the
regulation blue blouse and pantaloons, which
are worn upon the person only when the Indian
scout is anxious to "paralyze" the frontier towns
or military posts by a display of all his finery.

The other trappings of these savage auxili
aries are a Springfield breech-loading rifle,
army pattern, a canteen full of water, a butcher
knife, an awl in leather case, a pair of tweezers,
and a tag. The awl is used for sewing moccasins
or work of that kind. With the tweezers the
Apache young man carefully picks out each and
every hair appearing upon his face. The tag
marks his place in the tribe, and is in reality
40

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

nothing more or less than a revival of a plan
adopted during the war of the rebellion for the
identification of soldiers belonging to the differ
ent corps and divisions. Each male Indian at the
San Carlos is tagged and numbered, and a de
scriptive list, corresponding to the tag kept,
with a full recital of all his physical peculiari
ties.

This is the equipment of each and every
scout; but there are many, especially the more
pious and influential, who carry besides,
strapped at the waist, little buckskin bags of
Hoddentin, or sacred meal, with which to of
fer morning and evening sacrifice to the sun or
other deity. Others, again, are provided with
amulets of lightning-riven twigs, pieces of
quartz crystal, petrified wood, concretionary
sandstone, galena, or chalchihuitls, or fetiches
representing some of their countless planetary
gods or Kan, which are regarded as the "dead
medicine" for frustrating the designs of the
enemy or warding off arrows and bullets in the
heat of action. And a few are happy in the pos
session of priceless sashes and shirts of buck
skin, upon which are emblazoned the signs of

41

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

the sun, moon, lightning, rainbow, hail, fire, the
water-beetle, butterfly, snake, centipede, and
other powers to which they may appeal for aid
in the hour of distress.

The Apache is an eminently religious person,
and the more deviltry he plans the more pro
nounced does his piety become.

The rate of speed attained by the Apaches
in marching is about an even four miles an
hour on foot, or not quite fast enough to make
a horse trot. They keep this up for about fif
teen miles, at the end of which distance, if
water be encountered and no enemy be sighted,
they congregate in bands of from ten to fifteen
each, hide in some convenient ravine, sit down,
smoke cigarettes, chat and joke, and stretch
out in the sunlight, basking like the Negroes
of the South. If they want to make a little fire,
they kindle one with matches, if they happen
to have any with them; if not, a rapid twirl, be
tween the palms, of a hard round stick fitting
into a circular hole in another stick of softer
fiber, will bring fire in from eight to forty-five
seconds. The scouts by this time have painted
their faces, daubing them with red ochre, deer's

42

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

blood, or the juice of roasted mescal The object
of this is protection from wind and sun, as well
as distinctive ornamentation.

The first morning's rest of the Apaches was
broken by the shrill cry of Choddi! Choddi!
(Antelope! Antelope!) and far away on the
left the dull slump! slump! of rifles told that the
Apaches on that flank were getting fresh meat
for the evening meal. Twenty carcasses demon
strated that they were not the worst of shots;
neither were they, by any means, bad cooks.

When the command reached camp these
restless, untiring nomads built in a trice all
kinds of rude shelters. Those that had the army
"dog tents" put them up on frame-works of wil
low or cotton-wood saplings; others, less for
tunate, improvised domiciles of branches cov
ered with grass, or of stones and boards covered
with gunny sacks. Before these were finished
smoke curled gracefully toward the sky from
crackling embers, in front of which, transfixed
on wooden spits, were the heads, hearts, and
livers of several of the victims of the afternoon's
chase. Another addition to the spolia opima was
a cotton-tailed rabbit, run down by these fleet-

43

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

footed Bedouins of the Southwest Turkeys
and quail are caught in the same manner.

Meanwhile a couple of scouts were making
bread, the light, thin tortillas of the Mexicans,
baked quickly in a pan, and not bad eating.
Two others were fraternally occupied in pre
paring their bed for the night. Grass was pulled
by handfuls, laid upon the ground, and covered
with one blanket, another serving as cover.
These Indians, with scarcely an exception, sleep
with their feet pointed toward little fires, which,
they claim, are warm, while the big ones built
by the American soldiers, are so hot that they
drive people away from them, and, besides, at
tract the attention of a lurking enemy. At the
foot of this bed an Apache was playing on a
home-made fiddle, fabricated from the stalk of
the mescal, or American aloe. This fiddle has
four strings, and emits a sound like the wail of
a cat with its tail caught in a fence. But the
noble red man likes the music, which perhaps
is, after all, not so very much inferior to that of
Wagner.

Enchanted and stimulated by the concord of
sweet sounds, a party of six was playing fiercely

44

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

at the Mexican game of "monte," the cards em
ployed being of native manufacture, of horse-
hide, covered with barbarous figures, and well
worthy of a place in any museum.

The cooking was by this time ended, and the
savages, with genuine hospitality, invited the
Americans near them to join in the feast. It was
not conducive to appetite to glance at dirty
paws tearing bread and meat into fragments;
yet the meat thus cooked was tender and juicy,
the bread not bad, and the coffee strong and
fairly well made. The Apaches squatted near
est to the American guests felt it incumbent
upon them to explain everything as the meal
progressed. They said this (pointing to the
coffee) is Tu-dishishn (black water), and that
Zigosti (bread).

All this time scouts had been posted com
manding every possible line of approach. The
Apache dreads surprise. It is his own favorite
mode of destroying an enemy, and knowing
what he himself can do, he ascribes to his foe
no matter how insignificant may be his numbers
the same daring, recklessness, agility, and
subtlety possessed by himself. These Indian

45

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

scouts will inarch thirty-five or forty miles in
a day on foot, crossing wide stretches of water
less plains upon which a tropical sun beats
down with fierceness, or climbing up the faces
of precipitous mountains which stretch across
this region in every direction.

The two great points of superiority of the
native or savage soldier over the representative
of civilized discipline are his absolute knowl
edge of the country and his perfect ability to
take care of himself at all times and under all
circumstances. Though the rays of the sun pour
down from the zenith, or the scorching sirocco
blow from the south, the Apache scout trudges
along as unconcerned as he was when the cold
rain or snow of winter chilled his white com
rade to the marrow. He finds foods, and pretty
good food too, where the Caucasian would
starve. Knowing the habits of wild animals from
his earliest youth, he can catch turkeys, quail,
rabbits, doves, or field-mice, and, perhaps a
prairie-dog or two, which will supply him with
meat. For some reason he cannot be induced to
touch fish, and bacon or any other product of
the hog is eaten only under duress; but the
46

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

flesh of a horse, mule, or jackass, which has
dropped exhausted on the march and been left
to die on the trail, is a delicious morsel which
the Apache epicure seizes upon wherever pos
sible. The stunted oak, growing on the moun
tain flanks, furnishes acorns; the Spanish bayo
net, a fruit that, when roasted in the ashes of a
camp-fire, looks and tastes something like the
banana. The whole region of Southern Arizona
and Northern Mexico is matted with varieties of
the cactus, nearly every one of which is called
upon for its tribute of fruit or seed. The broad
leaves and stalks of the century-plant called
mescal are roasted between hot stones, and
the product is rich in saccharine matter and ex
tremely pleasant to the taste. The wild potato
and the bulb of the tule are found in the damp
mountain meadows; and the nest of the ground-
bee is raided remorselessly for its little store of
honey. Sunflower-seeds, when ground fine, are
rich and nutritious. Walnuts grow in the deep
ravines, and strawberries in favorable locations;
in the proper season these, with the seeds of
wild grasses and wild pumpkins, the gum of
the mesquite, or the sweet, soft inner bark of

47

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

the pine, play their part in staving off the pangs
of hunger.

The above are merely a few of the resources
of the Apache scout when separated from the
main command. When his moccasins give out
on a long march over the sharp rocks of the
mountains or the cutting sands of the plains, a
few hours* rest sees him equipped with a new
pair, his own handiwork, and so with other
portions of his raiment. He is never without
awl, needle, thread, or sinew. Brought up from
infancy to the knowledge and use of arms of
some kind, at first the bow and arrow, and
later on the rifle, he is perfectly at home with
his weapons, and knowing from past experience
how important they are for his preservation,
takes much better care of them than does the
white soldier out of garrison.

He does not read the newspapers, but the
great book of nature is open to his perusal, and
has been drained of much knowledge which his
pale-faced brother would be glad to acquire.
Every track in the trail, mark in the grass,
scratch on the bark of a tree, explains itself to
the untutored Apache. He can tell to an hour,
48

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

almost, when the man or animal making them
passed by, and, like a hound, will keep on the
scent until he catches up with the object of his
pursuit.

In the presence of strangers the Apache sol
dier is sedate and taciturn. Seated around his
little apology for a camp-fire, in the communion
of his fellows, he becomes vivacious and con
versational. He is obedient to authority, but
will not brook the restraints which, under our
notions of discipline, change men into ma
chines. He makes an excellent sentinel, and not
a single instance can be adduced of property
having been stolen from or by an Apache on
guard.

He has the peculiarity, noticed among so
many savage tribes in various parts of the
world, of not caring to give his true name to a
stranger; if asked for it, he will either give a
wrong one or remain mute and let a comrade
answer for him. This rule does not apply where
he has been dubbed with a sobriquet by the
white soldiers. In such case he will respond
promptly, and tell the inquirer that he is
"Stumpy," "Tom Thumb," "KIT "Humpy

49

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

Sam/' or "One-Eyed Reilly," as the case may
be. But there is no such exception in regard to
the dead. Their names are never mentioned,
even by the wailing friends who loudly chant
their virtues.

Approaching the enemy his vigilance is a
curious thing to witness. He avoids appearing
suddenly upon the crest of a hill, knowing that
his figure projected against the sky can at such
time be discerned from a great distance. He will
carefully bind around his brow a sheaf of grass,
or some other foliage, and thus disguised crawl
like a snake to the summit and carefully peer
about, taking in with his keen black eyes the
details of the country to the front with a ra
pidity and thoroughness the American or Eu
ropean can never acquire. In battle he is again
the antithesis of the Caucasian. The Apache
has no false ideas about courage; he would pre
fer to skulk like the coyote for hours, and then
kill his enemy, or capture his herd, rather than,
by injudicious exposure, receive a wound, fatal
or otherwise. But he is no coward; on the con
trary, he is entitled to rank among the bravest.
The precautions taken for his safety prove that
50

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

he is an exceptionally skillful soldier. His first
duty under fire is to jump for a rock, bush, or
hole, from which no enemy can drive him ex
cept with loss of life or blood.

The policy of Great Britain has always been
to enlist a force of auxiliaries from among the
natives of the countries falling under her sway.
The government of the United States, on the
contrary, has persistently ignored the really ex
cellent material, ready at hand, which could
with scarcely an effort and at no expense, be
mobilized, and made to serve as a frontier po
lice. General Crook is the only officer of our
army who has fully recognized the incalculable
value of a native contingent, and in all his cam
paigns of the past thirty-five years has drawn
about him as soon as possible a force of Indians,
which has been serviceable as guides and trail
ers, and also of consequence in reducing the
strength of the opposition.

The white army of the United States is a
much better body of officers and men than a
critical and censorious public gives it credit for
being. It represents intelligence of a high order,
and a spirit of devotion to duty worthy of un-

51

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

bounded praise; but it does not represent the
acuteness of the savage races. It cannot follow
the trail like a dog on the scent. It may be brave
and well-disciplined, but its members cannot
tramp or ride, as the case may be, from forty to
seventy-five miles in a day, without water, un
der a burning sun. No civilized army can do
that. It is one of the defects of civilized training
that man develops new wants, awakens new
necessities, becomes, in a word, more and
more a creature of luxury.

Take the Apache Indian under the glaring
sun of Mexico. He quietly peels off all his cloth
ing and enjoys the fervor of the day more than
otherwise. He may not be a great military gen
ius, but he is inured to all sorts of fatigue, and
will be hilarious and jovial when the civilized
man is about to die of thirst.

Prominent among these scouts was of course
first of all "Peaches/' the captive guide. He was
one of the handsomest men, physically, to be
found in the world. He never knew what it was
to be tired, cross, or out of humor. His knowl
edge of the topography of Northern Sonora was
remarkable, and his absolute veracity and fidel-
52

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

ity in all bis dealings a notable feature in his
character. With him might be mentioned "Al-
chise," "Mickey Free/' "Severiano," "Nockie-
cholli," "Nott," and dozens of others, all tried
and true men, experienced in warfare and de
voted to the general whose standard they fol
lowed.

53

.II.

.TKOM Willcox to San Bernardino
Springs, by the road the wagons followed, is an
even 100 miles. The march thither, through a
most excellent grazing country, was made in
five days, by which time the command was
joined by Captain Emmet Crawford, Third
Cavalry, with more than 100 additional Apache
scouts and several trains of pack-mules.

San Bernardino Springs break out from the
ground upon the Boundary Line and flow south
into the Yaqui River, of which the San Bernar
dino River is the extreme head. These springs
yielded an abundance of water for all our
needs, and at one time had refreshed thousands
of head of cattle, which have since disappeared
54

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

under the attrition of constant warfare with the
Apaches.

The few days spent at San Bernardino were
days of constant toil and labor; from the first
streak of dawn until far into the night the task
of organizing and arranging went on. Tele
grams were dispatched to the Mexican generals
notifying them that the American troops would
leave promptly by the date agreed upon, and
at last the Indian scouts began their war-
dances, and continued them without respite
from each sunset until the next sunrise. In a
conference with General Crook they informed
him of their anxiety to put an end to the war
and bring peace to Arizona, so that the white
men and Apaches could live and work side by
side.

By the 29th of April all preparations were
complete. Baggage had been cut down to a
minimum. Every officer and man was allowed
to carry the clothes on his back, one blanket
and forty rounds of ammunition. Officers were
ordered to mess with the packers and on the
same food issued to soldiers and Indian scouts.
One hundred and sixty rounds of extra ammu-

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nition and rations of hard-bread, coffee and
bacon, for sixty days, were carried on pack-
mules.

At this moment General Sherman tele
graphed to General Crook that he must not
cross the Mexican boundary in pursuit of In
dians, except in strict accord with the terms of
the treaty, without defining exactly what those
terms meant. Crook replied, acknowledging
receipt of these instructions and saying that he
would respect treaty stipulations.

On Tuesday, May 1st, 1883, the expedition
crossed the boundary into Mexico. Its exact
composition was as follows: General George
Crook in command; Captain John G. Bourke,
Third Cavalry, acting adjutant-general; Lieu
tenant G. S. Febiger, engineer officer, aide-de
camp; Captain Chaffee, Sixth Cavalry, with
Lieutenants West and Forsyth, and forty-two
enlisted men of "I" company of that regiment;
Doctor Andrews, Private A. F. Harmer of the
General Service, and 193 Indian scouts, under
Captain Emmet Crawford, Third Cavalry,
Lieutenant Mackey, Third Cavalry, and Gate-
wood, Sixth Cavalry, with whom were Al.
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Zeiber, Mclntosh, "Mickey Free," Severiano,
and Sam Bowman, as interpreters.

The pack-mules, for purposes of efficient
management, were divided into five trains, each
with its complement of skilled packers. These
trains were under charge of Monach, Hopkins,
Stanfield, "Long Jim Cook," and "Short Jim
Cook."

Each packer was armed with carbine and
revolver, for self -protection, but nothing could
be expected of them, in the event of an attack,
beyond looking out for the animals. Conse
quently the effective fighting strength of the
command was a little over fifty white men
officers and soldiers and not quite 200 Apache
scouts, representing the various bands, Chiri-
cahua, White Mountain, Yuma, Mojave, and
Tonto.

The first rays of the sun were beaming upon
the Eastern hills as we swung into our saddles,
and, amid a chorus of goodbyes and God-bless-
yous from those left behind, pushed down the
hot and sandy valley of the San Bernardino,
past the mouth of Guadalupe canon, to near
the confluence of Elias Creek, some twenty

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miles. Here camp was made on the banks of
a pellucid stream, under the shadow of graceful
walnut and ash trees. The Apache scouts had
scoured the country to the front and on both
flanks, and returned loaded with deer and wild
turkeys, the latter being run down and caught
in the bushes. One escaped from its captors
and started through camp on a full jump, pur
sued by the Apaches, who, upon re-catching it,
promptly twisted its head off.

The Apaches were in excellent spirits, the
medicine men having repeated with emphasis
the prediction that the expedition was to be a
grand success. One of the most influential of
them a mere boy, who carried the most sacred
medicine was especially positive in his views,
and, unlike most prophets, backed them up
with a bet of $40.

On May 2, 1883, breakfasted at 4 A.M. The
train Monach's with which we took meals
was composed equally of Americans and Mexi
cans. So, when the cook spread his canvas on
the ground, one heard such expressions as
Tantito* zucarito quiero; Sirve pasar el jdrdbe;
Pose rebanada de pan; Otra gotita mas de cafe,
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quite as frequently as their English equivalents,
"I'd like a little more sugar/' "Please pass the
sirup/' "Hand me a slice of bread/' "A little
drop of coffee." Close by, the scouts consumed
their meals, and with more silence, yet not so
silently but that their calls for inchi (salt), ikon
(flour), pezd-a (frying-pan), and other arti
cles, could be plainly heard.

Martin, the cook, deserves some notice. He
was not, as he himself admitted, a French cook
by profession. His early life had been passed
in the more romantic occupation of driving an
ore-wagon between Willcox and Globe, and,
to quote his own proud boast, he could "hold
down a sixteen-mule team with any outfit this
side the Rio Grande."

But what he lacked in culinary knowledge
he more than made up in strength and agility.
He was not less than six feet two in his socks,
and built like a young Hercules. He was gentle-
natured, too, and averse to fighting. Such, at
least, was the opinion I gathered from a remark
he made the first evening I was thrown into his
society.

His eyes somehow were fixed on mine, while

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he said quietly, "If there's anybody here don't
like the grub, I'll kick a lung out of him!" I
was just about suggesting that a couple of
pounds less saleratus in the bread and a couple
of gallons less water in the coffee would be
grateful to my sybarite palate; but, after this
conversation, I reflected that the fewer remarks
I made the better would be the chances of my
enjoying the rest of the trip; so I said nothing.
Martin, I believe, is now in Chihuahua, and I
assert from the depths of an outraged stomach,
that a better man or a worse cook never
thumped a mule or turned a flapjack.

The march was continued down the San Ber
nardino until we reached its important affluent,
the Bavispe, up which we made our way until
the first signs of habitancy were encountered
in the squalid villages of Bavispe, Basaraca,
and Huachinera.

The whole country was a desert. On each
hand were the ruins of depopulated and aban
doned hamlets, destroyed by the Apaches. The
bottom-lands of the San Bernardino, once smil
ing with crops of wheat and barley, were now
covered with a thickly-matted jungle of semi-
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tropical vegetation. The river banks were
choked by dense brakes of cane of great size
and thickness. The narrow valley was hemmed
in by rugged and forbidding mountains, gashed
and slashed with a thousand ravines, to cross
which exhausted both strength and patience.
The foot-hills were covered with chevaux de
frise of Spanish bayonet, mescal, and cactus.
The lignum-vitse flaunted its plumage of crim
son flowers, much like the fuchsia, but growing
in clusters. The grease-wood, ordinarily so
homely, here assumed a garniture of creamy
blossoms, rivaling the gaudy dahlia-like cups
upon the nopal, and putting to shame the mod
est tendrils pendent from the branches of the
mesquite.

The sun glared down pitilessly, wearing out
the poor mules, which had as much as they
could do to scramble over the steep hills, com
posed of a nondescript accumulation of lava,
sandstone, porphyry, and limestone, half-
rounded by the action of water, and so loosely
held together as to slip apart and roll away
the instant the feet of animals or men touched
them.

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When they were not slipping over loose
stones or climbing rugged hills, they were
breaking their way through jungles of thorny
vegetation, which tore their quivering flesh.
One of the mules, falling from the rocks, im
paled itself upon a mesquite branch, and had to
be killed.

Through all this the Apache scouts trudged
without a complaint, and with many a laugh
and jest. Each time camp was reached they
showed themselves masters of the situation.
They would gather the saponaceous roots of
the yucca and Spanish bayonet, to make use of
them in cleaning their long, black hair, or cut
sections of the bamboo-like cane and make
pipes for smoking, or four-holed flutes, which
emitted a weird, Chinese sort of music, re
sponded to with melodious chatter by countless
birds perched in the shady seclusion of ash
and cotton-wood.

Those scouts who were not on watch gave
themselves up to the luxury of the ta-a-chi, or
sweat-bath. To construct these baths, a dozen
willow or cotton-wood branches are stuck in
the ground and the upper extremities, united

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to form a dome-shaped framework, upon which
are laid blankets to prevent the escape of heat
Three or four large rocks are heated and placed
in the centre, the Indians arranging themselves
around these rocks and bending over them.
Silicious boulders are invariably selected, and
not calcareous the Apaches being sufficiently
familiar with rudimentary mineralogy to know
that the latter will frequently crack and explode
under intense heat.

When it came to my time to enter the sweat-
lodge I could see nothing but a network of arms
and legs, packed like sardines. An extended ex
perience with Broadway omnibuses assured me
that there must always be room for one more.
The smile of the "medicine-man" the master
of ceremonies encouraged me to push in first
an arm, then a leg, and, finally, my whole body.

Thump! sounded the damp blanket as it fell
against the frame-work and shut out all light
and air. The conductor of affairs inside threw a
handful of water on the hot rocks, and steam,
on the instant, filled every crevice of the den.
The heat was that of a bake-oven; breathing
was well-nigh impossible.

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"Sing/' said in English the Apache boy,
Keet, whose legs and arms were sinuously in
tertwined with mine; "sing heap; sleep moocho
to-night; eat plenny dinna to-mollo/' The other
bathers said that everybody must sing. I had
to yield. My repertoire consists of but one song
the lovely ditty "Owe captain's name is
Murphy/* I gave them this with all the lung-
power I had left, and was heartily encored; but
I was too much exhausted to respond, and
rushed out, dripping with perspiration, to
plunge with my dusky comrades into the re
freshing waters of the Bavispe, which had worn
out for themselves tanks three to twenty feet
deep. The effects of the bath were all that the
Apaches had predicted a sound, refreshing
sleep and increased appetite.

The farther we got into Mexico the greater
the desolation. The valley of the Bavispe, like
that of the San Bernardino, had once been
thickly populated; now all was wild and
gloomy. Foot-prints indeed were plenty, but
they were the fresh moccasin-tracks of Chiri-
cahuas, who apparently roamed with immunity
over all this solitude. There were signs, too, of
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Mexican "travel;" but in every case these were
"conductor* of pack-mules, guarded by com
panies of soldiers. Rattlesnakes were encoun
tered with greater frequency both in camp and
on the march. When found in camp the
Apaches, from superstitious reasons, refrained
from killing them, but let the white men do it.

The vegetation remained much the same as
that of Southern Arizona, only denser and
larger. The cactus began to bear odorous flow
ers a species of night-blooming cereus and
parrots of gaudy plumage flitted about camp,
to the great joy of the scouts, who, catching
two or three, tore the feathers from their bodies
and tied them in their inky locks. Queenly
humming-birds of sapphire hue darted from
bush to bush and tree to tree. Every one felt
that we were advancing into more torrid re
gions. However, by this time faces and hands
were finely tanned and blistered, and the fervor
of the sun was disregarded. The nights re
mained cool and refreshing throughout the
trip, and, after the daily march or climb,
soothed to the calmest rest

On the 5th of May the column reached the

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feeble, broken-down towns of Bavispe and Ba-
saraca. The condition of the inhabitants was
deplorable. Superstition, illiteracy, and bad
government had done their worst, and, even
had not the Chiricahuas kept them in mortal
terror, it is doubtful whether they would have
had energy enough to profit by the natural ad
vantages, mineral and agricultural, of their im
mediate vicinity. The land appeared to be
fertile and was well watered. Horses, cattle,
and chickens throve; the cereals yielded an
abundant return; and scarlet blossoms blushed
in the waxy-green foliage of the pomegranate.
Every man, woman, and child had gathered
in the streets or squatted on the flat roofs of
the adobe houses to welcome our approach with
cordial acclamations. They looked like a grand
national convention of scarecrows and rag
pickers, their garments old and dingy, but no
man so poor that he didn't own a gorgeous som
brero, with a snake-band of silver, or display
a flaming sash of cheap red silk and wool.
Those who had them displayed rainbow-hued
serapes flung over the shoulders; those who had
none went in their shirt-sleeves.
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The children were bright, dirty, and pretty;
die women so closely enveloped in their rebozos
that only one eye could be seen. They greeted
our people with warmth, and offered to go
with us to the mountains. With the volubility
of parrots they began to describe a most blood
thirsty fight recently had with the Chiricahuas,
in which, of course, the Apaches had been
completely and ignominiously routed, each
Mexican having performed prodigies of valor
on a par with those of Ajax. But at the same
time they wouldn't go alone into their fields,
only a quarter of a mile off, which were con
stantly patroled by a detachment of twenty-
five or thirty men of what was grandiloquently
styled the National Guard. "Peaches/* the
guide, smiled quietly, but said nothing, when
told of this latest annihilation of the Chirica
huas. General Crook, without a moment's hesi
tancy, determined to keep on the trail farther
into the Sierra Madre.

The food of these wretched Mexicans was
mainly atole, a weak flour-gruel resembling
the paste used by our paper-hangers. Books
they had none, and newspapers had not yet

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been heard of. Their only recreation was in
religious festivals, occurring with commendable
frequency. The churches themselves were in
the last stages of dilapidation; the adobe ex
teriors showed dangerous indications of ap
proaching dissolution, while the tawdry orna
ments of the inside were foul and black with
age, smoke, dust, and rain.

I asked a small, open-mouthed boy to hold
my horse for a moment until I had examined
one of these edifices, which bore the elaborate
title of the Temple of the Holy Sepulchre and
our Lady of the Trance. This action evoked a
eulogy from one of the bystanders: "This man
can't be an American, he must be a Christian,"
he sagely remarked; Tie speaks Castilian, and
goes to church the first thing."

It goes without saying that they have no
mails in that country. What they call the post-
office of Basaraca is in the store of the town.
The store had no goods for sale, and the post-
office had no stamps. The postmaster didn't
know when the mail would go; it used to go
every eight days, but now quien sabe? Yes,
he would send our letters the first opportunity.

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

The price? Oh! the price? did the caballeros
want to know how much? Well, for Mexican
people, he charged five cents, but the Ameri
cans would have to pay dos reales (twenty-five
cents) for each letter.

The only supplies for sale in Basaraca were
fiery mescal, chile, and a few eggs, eagerly
snapped up by the advance-guard. In making
these purchases we had to enter different
houses, which vied with each other in penury
and destitution. There were no chairs, no tables,
none of the comforts which the humblest la
borers in our favored land demand as right and
essential. The inmates in every instance re
ceived us urbanely and kindly. The women,
who were uncovered inside their domiciles,
were greatly superior in good looks and good
breeding to their husbands and brothers; but
the latter never neglected to employ all the
punctilious expressions of Spanish politeness.

That evening the round-stomached old man,
whom, in ignorance of the correct title, we all
agreed to call the Alcalde, paid a complimen
tary visit to General Crook, and with polite
flourishes bade him welcome to the soil of Mex-

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Ico, informed him that he had received orders
to render the expedition every assistance in his
power, and offered to accompany it at the head
of every man and boy in the vicinity. General
Crook felt compelled to decline the assistance
of these valiant auxiliaries, but asked permis
sion to buy four beeves to feed to the Apache
scouts, who did not relish bacon or other salt
meat

Bivouac was made that night on the banks
of the Bavispe, under the bluff upon which
perched the town of Basaraca. Numbers of
visitors men and boys flocked in to see us,
bringing bread and tobacco for barter and sale.
In their turn a large body of our people went
up to the town and indulged in the unexpected
luxury of a ball. This was so entirely original
in all its features that a mention of it is admis
sible.

Bells were ringing a loud peal, announcing
that the morrow would be Sunday, when a pro
longed thumping of drums signaled that the
baile was about to begin.

Wending our way to the corner whence the
noise proceeded, we found that a half-dozen of
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the packers had bought out the whole stock of
the tienda, which dealt only in mescal, paying
therefor the princely sum of $12.50.

Invitations had been extended to all the adult
inhabitants to take part in the festivities. For
some reason all the ladies sent regrets by the
messenger; but of men there was no lack, the
packers having taken the precaution to send
out a patrol to scour the streets, "collar" and
"run in" every male biped found outside his
own threshold. These captives were first made
to drink a tumbler of mescal to the health of
the two great nations, Mexico and the United
States, and then were formed into quadrille
sets, moving in unison with the orchestra of five
pieces, two drums, two squeaky fiddles, and
an accordion.

None of the performers understood a note of
music. When a new piece was demanded, the
tune had to be whistled in the ears of the bass-
drummer, who thumped it off on his instru
ment, followed energetically by his enthusiastic
assistants.

This orchestra was augmented in a few mo
ments by the addition of a young boy with a

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sax-horn. He couldn't play, and the horn had
lost its several keys, but he added to the noise
and was welcomed with screams of applause.
It was essentially a stag party, but a very funny
one. The new player was doing some good
work when a couple of dancers whirled into
him, knocking him clear off his pins and astride
of the bass-drum and drummer.

Confusion reigned only a moment; good
order was soon restored, and the dance would
have been resumed with increased jollity had
not the head of the bass-drum been helplessly
battered.

Midnight had long since been passed, and
there was nothing to be done but break up the
party and return to camp.

From Basaraca to Tesorababi over twenty
miles the line of march followed a country
almost exactly like that before described. The
little hamlets of Estancia and Huachinera were
perhaps a trifle more squalid than Bavispe or
Basaraca, and their churches more dilapidated;
but in that of Huachinera were two or three
unusually good oil-paintings, brought from
Spain a long time ago. Age, dust, weather,
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and candle-grease had almost ruined, but had
not fully obliterated, the touch of the master-
hand which had made them.

Tesorababi must have been, a couple of gen
erations since, a very noble ranch. It has
plenty of water, great groves of oak and mes-
quite, with sycamore and cottonwood growing
near the water, and very nutritious grass upon
the neighboring hills. The buildings have fallen
into ruin, nothing being now visible but the
stout walls of stone and adobe. Mesquite trees
of noble size choke up the corral, and every
thing proclaims with mute eloquence the su
premacy of the Apache.

Alongside of this ranch are the ruins of an
ancient pueblo, with quantities of broken pot
tery, stone mortars, Obsidian flakes and kindred
reliquiae.

To Tesorababi the column was accompanied
by a small party of guides sent out by the Al
calde of Basaraca. General Crook ordered than
back, as they were not of the slightest use so
long as we had such a force of Apache scouts.

We kept in camp at Tesorababi until the
night of May 7, and then marched straight for

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the Sierra Madre. The foot-hills were thickly
covered with rich grama and darkened by
groves of scrub-oak. Soon the oak gave way
to cedar in great abundance, and the hills and
ridges became steeper as we struck the trail
lately made by the Chiricahuas driving off cat
tle from Sahuaripa and Oposura. We were
fairly within the range, and had made good
progress, when the scouts halted and began to
explain to General Crook that nothing but bad
luck could be expected if he didn't set free an
owl which one of our party had caught, and
tied to the pommel of his saddle.

They said the owl (Bu) was a bird of ill-
omen, and that we could not hope to whip the
Chiricahuas so long as we retained it. These
solicitations bore good fruit. The moon-eyed
bird of night was set free and the advance re
sumed. Shortly before midnight camp was
made in a very deep canon, thickly wooded, and
having a small stream a thousand feet below
our position. No fires were allowed, and some
confusion prevailed among the pack-mules,
which could not find their places.

Very early the next morning (May 8, 1883)

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the command moved in easterly direction up
the canon. This was extremely rocky and steep.
Water stood in pools everywhere, and animals
and men slaked their fierce thirst. Indications
of Chiricahua depredations multiplied. The trail
was fresh and well-beaten, as if by scores yes,
hundreds of stolen ponies and cattle.

The carcasses of five freshly slaughtered
beeves lay in one spot; close to them a couple
more, and so on.

The path wound up the face of the mountain,
and became so precipitous that were a horse to
slip his footing he would roll and fall hundreds
of feet to the bottom. At one of the abrupt
turns could be seen, deep down in the canon,
the mangled fragments of a steer which had
fallen from the trail, and been dashed to pieces
on the rocks below. It will save much repeti
tion to say, at this point, that from now on we
were never out of sight of ponies and cattle,
butchered, in every stage of mutilation, or alive,
and roaming by twos and threes in the ravines
and on the mountain flanks.

Climb! Climb! Climb! Gaining the sum
mit of one ridge only to learn that above it tow-

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ered another, the face of nature fearfully cor
rugated into a perplexing alternation of ridges
and chasms. Not far out from the last bivouac
was passed the spot where a large body of Mex
ican troops had camped, the farthest point of
their penetration into the range, although then-
scouts had been pushed in some distance, far
ther, only to be badly whipped by the Chirica-
huas, who sent them flying back, utterly de
moralized.

These particulars may now be remarked of
that country: It seemed to consist of a series of
parallel and very high, knife-edged hills, ex
tremely rocky and bold; the canons all con
tained water, either flowing rapidly, or else in
tanks of great depth. Dense pine forests covered
the ridges near the crests, the lower skirts being
matted with scrub-oak. Grass was generally
plentiful, but not invariably to be depended
upon. Trails ran in every direction, and upon
them were picked up all sorts of odds and ends
plundered from the Mexicans, dresses, made
and unmade, saddles, bridles, letters, flour,
onions, and other stuff. In every sheltered spot
could be discerned the ruins, buildings, walls,
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and dams, erected by an extinct race, once pos
sessing this region.

The pack-trains had much difficulty in getting
along. Six mules slipped from the trail, and
rolled over and over until they struck the bot
tom of the canon. Fortunately they had se
lected a comparatively easy grade, and none
was badly hurt.

The scouts became more and more vigilant
and the "medicine-men" more and more devo
tional. When camp was made the high peaks
were immediately picketed, and all the ap
proaches carefully examined. Fires were al
lowed only in rare cases, and in positions af
fording absolute concealment Before going
to bed the scouts were careful to fortify them
selves in such a manner that surprise was simply
impossible.

Late at night ( May 8th) the "medicine-men**
gathered together for the never-to-be-neglected
duty of singing and "seeing" the Chiricahuas.
After some palaver I succeeded in obtaining
the privilege of sitting in the circle with them.
All but one chanted in a low, melancholy tone,
half song and half grunt The solitary excep-

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tion lay as if in a trance for a few moments,
and then, half opening his lips, began to thump
himself violently in the breast, and to point to
the east and north, while he muttered: "Me
can't see the Chilicahuas yet. Bimeby me see
'urn. Me catch 'urn, me kill 'urn. Me no catch
'urn, me no kill 'urn. Mebbe so six day me
catch "urn; mebbe so two day. Tomollow me
send twenty-pibe (25) men to hunt 'urn tlail.
Mebbe so tomollow catch 'urn squaw. Chili-
cahua see me, me no get 'urn. No see me, me
catch him. Me see him little bit now. Mebbe
so me see 'urn more tomollow. Me catch 'urn, me
kill ? um. Me catch 'um hoss, me catch \on mool
(mule), me catch ? um cow. Me catch Chili-
cahua pooty soon, bimeby. Me kill ? um heap,
and catch ? um squaw/' These prophecies,
translated for me by an old friend in the circle
who spoke some English, were listened to with
rapt attention and reverence by the awestruck
scouts on the exterior.

The succeeding day brought increased trou
ble and danger. The mountains became, if any
thing, steeper; the trails, if anything, more peril
ous. Carcasses of mules, ponies, and cows lined
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the path along which we toiled, dragging after
us worn-out horses.

It was not yet noon when the final ridge of
the day was crossed and the trail turned down
a narrow, gloomy, and rocky gorge, which grad
ually widened into a small amphitheatre.

This, the guide said, was the stronghold oc
cupied by the Chiricahuas while he was with
them; but no one was there now. For all pur
poses of defense, it was admirably situated.
Water flowed in a cool, sparkling stream
through the middle of the amphitheatre. Pine,
oak, and cedar in abundance and of good size
clung to the steep flanks of the ridges, in whose
crevices grew much grass. The country, for a
considerable distance, could be watched from
the pinnacles upon which the savage pickets
had been posted, while their huts had been so
scattered and concealed in the different brakes
that the capture or destruction of the entire
band could never have been effected.

The Chiricahuas had evidently lived in this
place a considerable time. The heads and bones
of cows and ponies were scattered about on all
sides. Meat must have been their principal

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food, since we discovered scarcely any mescal
or other vegetables. At one point the scouts in
dicated where a mother had been cutting a
child's hair; at another, where a band of young
sters had been enjoying themselves sliding
down rocks.

Here were picked up the implements used
by a young Chiricahua assuming the duties of
manhood. Like all other Indians they make
vows and pilgrimages to secluded spots, during
which periods they will not put their lips to
water, but suck up all they need through a
quill or cane. Hair-brushes of grass, bows and
arrows, and a Winchester rifle had likewise
been left behind by the late occupants.

The pack-trains experienced much difficulty
in keeping the trail this morning ( May 9 ) . Five
mules fell over the precipice and killed them
selves, three breaking their necks and two hav
ing to be shot.

Being now in the very centre of the hostile
country, May 10, 1883, unusual precautions
were taken to guard aganist discovery or am
buscade, and to hurry along the pack-mules.
Parties of Apache scouts were thrown out to
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the front, flanks, and rear to note carefully
every track in the ground. A few were detailed
to stay with the pack-mules and guide them
over the best line of country. Ax-men were sent
ahead on the trail to chop out trees and remove
rocks or other obstructions. Then began a climb
which reflected the experience of the previous
two days; if at all different, it was much worse.
Upon the crest of the first high ridge were seen
forty abandoned jacales or lodges of branches;
after that, another dismantled village of thirty
more, and then, in every protected nook, one,
two, or three, as might be. Fearful as this trail
was the Chiricahuas had forced over it a band
of cattle and ponies, whose footprints had been
fully outlined in the mud, just hardened into
clay.

After two miles of a very hard climb we slid
down the almost perpendicular face of a high
bluff of slippery clay and loose shale into an
open space dotted with Chiricahua huts, where,
on a grassy space, the young savages had been
playing their favorite game of mushka, or knee-
billiards.

Two white-tailed deer ran straight into the

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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

long file of scouts streaming down hill; a shower
of rocks and stones greeted them, and there was
much suppressed merriment, but not the least
bit of noisy laughter, the orders being to avoid
any cause of alarm to the enemy.

A fearful chute led from this point down into
the gloomy chasm along which trickled the
head-waters of the Bavispe, gathering in basins
and pools clear as mirrors of crystal A tiny cas
cade babbled over a ledge of limestone and
filled at the bottom a dark-green reservoir of
unknown depth. There was no longer any ex
citement about Chiricahua signs; rather, won
der when none were to be seen.

The ashes of extinct fires, the straw of un
used beds, the skeleton frame-work of disman
tled huts, the play-grounds and dance-grounds,
mescal-pits and acorn-meal mills were visible
at every turn. The Chiricahuas must have felt
perfectly secure amid these towering pinnacles
of rock in these profound chasms, by these bot
tomless pools of water, and in the depths of this
forest primeval. Here no human foe could hope
to conquer them. Notwithstanding this security
of position, "Peaches" asserted that the Chiri-
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cahuas never relaxed vigilance. No fires were
allowed at night, and all cooking was done at
midday. Sentinels lurked in every crag, and
bands of bold raiders kept the foot-hills thor
oughly explored. Crossing Bavispe, the trail zig
zagged up the vertical slope of a promontory
nearly a thousand feet above the level of the
water. Perspiration streamed from every brow,
and mules and horses panted, sweated, and
coughed; but Up! Up! Up! was the watchword.

Look out! came the warning cry from those
in the lead, and then those in the rear and
bottom dodged nervously from the trajectory
of rocks dislodged from the parent mass, and,
gathering momentum as each bound hurled
them closer to the bottom of the canon. To
look upon the country was a grand sensation;
to travel in it, infernal. Away down at the
foot of the mountains the pack-mules could be
discerned apparently not much bigger than
jack-rabbits, struggling and panting up the
long, tortuous grade. And yet, up and down
these ridges the Apache scouts, when the idea
seized them, ran like deer.

One of them gave a low cry, half whisper,

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half whistle. Instantly all were on the alert,
and by some indefinable means, the news
flashed through the column that two Chirica-
huas had been sighted a short distance ahead
in a side canon. Before I could write this down
the scouts had stripped to the buff, placed their
clothing in the rocks, and dispatched ten or
twelve of their number in swift pursuit.

This proved to be a false alarm, for in an
hour they returned, having caught up with the
supposed Chiricahuas, who were a couple of
our own packers, off the trail, looking for stray
mules.

When camp was made that afternoon the
Apache scouts had a long conference with Gen
eral Crook. They called attention to the fact
that the pack-trains could not keep up with
them, that five mules had been killed on the
trail yesterday, and five others had rolled off
this morning, but been rescued with slight in
juries. They proposed that the pack-trains and
white troops remain in camp at this point, and
in future move so as to be a day's march or less
behind the Apache scouts, 150 of whom, under

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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

Crawford, Gatewood, and Mackey, with Al
Zeiber and the other white guides, would move
out well in advance to examine the country
thoroughly in front

If they came upon scattered parties of the
hostiles they would attack boldly, kill as many
as they could, and take the rest back, prisoners,
to San Carlos. Should the Chiricahuas be in
trenched in a strong position, they would en
gage them, but do nothing rash, until reinforced
by the rest of the command. General Crook
told them they must be careful not to loll
women or children, and that all who surren
dered should be taken back to the reservation
and made to work for their own living like
white people.

Animation and bustle prevailed everywhere;
small fires were burning in secluded nooks, and
upon the bright embers the scouts baked quan
tities of bread to be carried with them. Some
ground coffee on flat stones; others examined
their weapons critically and cleaned their car
tridges. Those whose moccasins needed repair
sewed and patched them, while the more

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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

cleanly and more religious indulged in the
sweat-bath, which has a semi-sacred character
on such occasions.

A strong detachment of packers, soldiers, and
Apaches climbed the mountains to the south,
and reached the locality in the foot-hills where
the Mexicans and Chiricahuas had recently had
an engagement. Judging by signs it would ap
pear conclusive that the Indians had enticed
the Mexicans into an ambuscade, killed a num
ber with bullets and rocks, and put the rest to
ignominious flight. The "medicine-men" had
another song and pow-wow after dark. Before
they adjourned it was announced that in two
days, counting from the morrow, the scouts
would find the Chiricahuas, and in three days
loll a "heap."

On May 11, 1883 (Friday), one hundred and
fifty Apache scouts, under the officers above
named, with Zeiber, "Mickey Free/' Severiano,
Archie Mclntosh, and Sam Bowman, started
from camp, on foot, at daybreak. Each carried
on his person four days* rations, a canteen, 100
rounds of ammunition, and a blanket Those
who were to remain in camp picketed the three

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

high peaks overlooking it, and from which half
a dozen Chiricahuas could offer serious annoy
ance. Most of those not on guard went down
to the water, bathed, and washed clothes. The
severe climhing up and down rough mountains,
slipping, falling, and rolling in dust and clay,
had blackened most of us like Negroes.

Chiricahua ponies had been picked up in
numbers, four coming down the mountains of
their own accord, to join our herds; and alto
gether, twenty were by this date in camp. The
suggestions of the locality were rather peaceful
in type; lovely blue humming-birds flitted from
bush to bush, and two Apache doll-babies lay
upon the ground.

Just as the sun was sinking behind the hills
in the west, a runner came back with a note
from Crawford, saying there was a fine camp
ing place twelve or fifteen miles across the
mountains to the southeast, with plenty of
wood, water, and grass.

For the ensuing three days the white soldiers
and pack-trains cautiously followed in the foot
steps of Crawford and the scouts, keeping a
sufficient interval between the two bodies to

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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

insure thorough investigation of the rough
country in front The trail did not improve
very much, although after the summit of a high,
grassy plateau had been gained, there was easy
traveling for several leagues. Pine trees of ma
jestic proportions covered the mountain-tops,
and there was the usual thickness of scrub-oak
on the lower elevations. By the side of the trail,
either thrown away or else cached in the trees,
were quantities of goods left by the Chiricahuas
calico, clothing, buckskin, horse-hides, beef-
hides, dried meat, and things of that nature.
The nights were very cool, the days bright and
warm. The Bavispe and its tributaries were a
succession of deep tanks of glassy, pure water,
in which all our people bathed on every oppor
tunity. The scouts escorting the pack-trains
gathered in another score of stray ponies and
mules, and were encouraged by another note
sent back by Crawford, saying that he had
passed the site of a Chiricahua village of ninety-
eight wickyups (huts), that the enemy had a
great drove of horses and cattle, and that the
presence of Americans or Apache scouts in the
country was yet undreamed of.

AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

Additional rations were pushed ahead to
Crawford and Ms command, the pack-trains
in rear taking their own time to march. There
was an abundance of wood in the forest, grass
grew in sufficiency, and the Bavispe yielded
water enough for a great army. The stream was
so clear that it was a pleasure to count the peb
bles at the bottom and to watch the graceful
fishes swimming within the shadow of moss-
grown rocks. The current was so deep that,
sinking slowly, with uplifted arms, one was not
able to touch bottom with the toes, and so wide
that twenty good, nervous strokes barely suf
ficed to propel the swimmer from shore to
shore. The water was soft, cool, and refreshing,
and a plunge beneath its ripples smoothed
away the wrinkles of care.

On May 15, 1883, we climbed and marched
ten or twelve miles to the southeast, crossing
a piece of country recently burned over, the
air, filled with soot and hot dust, blackening
and blistering our faces. Many more old ruins
were passed and scores of walls of masonry.
The trail was slightly improved, but still bad
enough; the soil, a half-disintegrated, reddish

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feldspar, with thin seams of quartz crystals.
There were also granite, sandstone, shale,
quartzite, and round masses of basalt. In the
bottoms of the canons were all kinds of "float"
granite, basalt, sandstone, porphyry, schist,
limestone, etc.; but no matter what the kind of
rock was, when struck upon the hill-sides it
was almost invariably split and broken, and
grievously retarded the advance.

90

noon of the 15th we had
descended into a small box canon, where we
were met by two white men (packers) and nine
Apache scouts.

They had come back from Crawford with
news for which all were prepared. The enemy
was close in our front, and fighting might begin
at any moment. The scouts in advance had
picked up numbers of ponies, mules, burros,
and cattle. This conversation was broken by
the sudden arrival of an Apache runner, who
had come six miles over the mountains in less
than an hour. He reached us at 1.05, and
handed General Crook a note, dated 12.15, stat
ing that the advance-guard had run across the

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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

Chiricahuas fhjg morning in a canon, and had
become much excited. Two Chiricahuas were
fired at, two bucks and a squaw, by scouts,
which action had alarmed the hostiles, and
their camp was on the move. Crawford would
pursue with all possible rapidity. At the same
moment reports of distant musketry-firing were
borne across the hills. Crawford was fighting
the Chiricahuas! There could be no doubt
about that; but exactly how many he had
found, and what luck he was having, no one
could tell. General Crook ordered Chaffee to
mount his men, and everybody to be in readi
ness to move forward to Crawford's support, if
necessary. The firing continued for a time, and
then grew feeble and died away.

All were anxious for a fight which should
bring this Chiricahua trouble to an end; we
had an abundance of ammunition and a suffi
ciency of rations for a pursuit of several days
and nights, the moon being at its full.

Shortly after dark Crawford and his com
mand came into camp. They had "jumped"
TBonitoV and "ChatoY* rancherias, killing
nine and capturing five two boys, two girls,
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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

and one young woman, the daughter of
"Bonito," without loss to our side. From the
dead Chiricahuas had been taken four nickel-
plated, breech-loading Winchester repeating
rifles, and one Golfs revolver, new model The
Chiricahuas had been pursued across a fear
fully broken country, gashed with countless
ravines, and shrouded with a heavy growth of
pine and scrub-oak. How many had been lolled
and wounded could never be definitely known,
the meagre official report, submitted by Cap
tain Crawford, being of necessity confined to
figures known to be exact Although the im
petuosity of the younger scouts had precipi
tated the engagement and somewhat impaired
its effect, yet this little skirmish demonstrated
two things to the hostile Chiricahuas; their old
friends and relatives from the San Carlos had
invaded their strongholds as the allies of the
white men, and could be depended upon to
fight, whether backed up by white soldiers or
not The scouts next destroyed the village, con
sisting of thirty wickyups, disposed in two
clusters, and carried off all the animals, loading
down forty-seven of them with plunder. This

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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

included the traditional riffraff of an Indian vil
lage: saddles, bridles, meat, mescal, blankets,
and clothing, with occasional prizes of much
greater value, originally stolen by the Chirica-
huas in raids upon Mexicans or Americans.
There were several gold and silver watches, a
couple of albums, and a considerable sum of
money Mexican and American coin and pa
per. The captives behaved with great coolness
and self-possession, considering their tender
years. The eldest said that her people had been
astounded and dismayed when they saw the
long Tine of Apache scouts rushing in upon
them; they would be still more disconcerted
when they learned that our guide was
"Peaches," as familiar as themselves with every
nook in strongholds so long regarded as inac
cessible. Nearly all the Chiricahua warriors
were absent raiding in Sonora and Chihuahua.
This young squaw was positive that the Chiri-
cahuas would give up without further fighting,
since the Americans had secured all the advan
tages of position. "Loco" and "Chihuahua/* she
knew, would be glad to live peaceably upon the
reservation, if justly treated; "Geronimo" and

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AN APACHE CANPAIGN

"Chato" she wasn't sure about. "Ju" was defiant,
but none of his bands were left alive. Most im
portant information of all, she said that in the
rancheria just destroyed was a little white boy
about six years old, called "Charlie/' captured
by "Chato" in his recent raid in Arizona. This
boy had run away with the old squaws when
the advance of the Apache scouts had been first
detected. She said that if allowed to go out
she would in less than two days bring in the
whole band, and Charlie (McComas) with
them. All that night the lofty peak, the scene of
the action, blazed with fire from the burning
rancheria. Rain-clouds gathered in the sky, and,
after hours of threatening, broke into a severe
but brief shower about sunrise next morning
(May 15).

The young woman was given a little hard
bread and meat, enough to last two days, and
allowed to go off, taking with her the elder of
the boy captives. The others stayed with us and
were kindly treated. They were given all the
baked mescal they could eat and a sufficiency
of bread and meat The eldest busied herself
with basting a skirt, but, like another Penelope,

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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

as fast as her work was done she ripped it up
and began anew apparently afraid that idle
ness would entail punishment The younger
girl sobbed convulsively, but her little brother,
a handsome brat, gazed stolidly at the world
through eyes as big as oysters and as black as
jet.

Later in the morning, after the fitful showers
had turned into a blinding, soaking rain, the
Apache scouts made for these young captives a
little shelter of branches and a bed of boughs
and dry grass. Pickets were thrown out to
watch the country on all sides and seize upon
any stray Chiricahua coming unsuspectingly
within their reach. The rain continued with
exasperating persistency all day. The night
cleared off bitter cold and water froze in pails
and kettles. The command moved out from
this place, going to another and better location
a few miles southeast. The first lofty ridge had
been scaled, when we descried on the summit
of a prominent knoll directly in our front a
thin curl of smoke wreathing upwards. This
was immediately answered by the scouts, who
heaped up pine-cones and cedar branches,
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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

which, in a second after ignition, shot a bold,
black, resinous signal above the tops of the
loftiest pines.

Five miles up and down mountains of no
great height but of great asperity led to a fine
camping-place, at the junction of two well-
watered canons, near which grew pine, oak,
and cedar in plenty, and an abundance of rich,
juicy grasses. The Apache scouts sent up a sec
ond smoke signal, promptly responded to from
a neighboring butte. A couple of minutes after
two squaws were seen threading their way down
through the timber and rocks and yelling with
full voice. They were the sisters of T6-klani
(Plenty Water), one of the scouts. They said
that they had lost heavily in the fight, and that
while endeavoring to escape over the rocks and
ravines and through the timber the fire of the
scouts had played havoc among them. They
fully confirmed all that the captives had said
about Charlie McComas. Two hours had
scarcely passed when six other women had
come in, approaching the pickets two and two,
and waving white rags. One of these, the sister
of "Chihuahua" a prominent man among the

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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

Chiricahuas said that her brother wanted to
come in, and was trying to gather up his band,
which had scattered like sheep after the fight;
he might be looked for in our camp at any mo
ment.

On the 18th (May, 1883), before 8.30 A. M.,
six new arrivals were reported four squaws,
one buck and a boy. Close upon their heels fol
lowed sixteen others men, women, and young
children. In this band was "Chihuahua" him
self, a fine-looking man, whose countenance be
tokened great decision and courage.

This chief expressed to General Crook his
earnest desire for peace, and acknowledged
that all the Chiricahuas could hope to do in the
future would be to prolong the contest a few
weeks and defer their destruction. He was tired
of fighting. His village had been destroyed and
all his property was in our hands. He wished
to surrender his band just as soon as he could
gather it together. "Geronimo/* "Chato," and
nearly all the warriors were absent, fighting the
Mexicans, but he ("Chihuahua") had sent run
ners out to gather up his band and tell his peo-
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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

pie they must surrender, without reference to
what the others did.

Before night forty-five Chiricahuas had come
in men, women, and children. "Chihuahua"
asked permission to go out with two young
men and hurry his people in. This was granted.
He promised to return without any delay. The
women of the Chiricahuas showed the wear
and tear of a rugged mountain life, and the
anxieties and disquietudes of a rugged Ishmael-
itish war. The children were models of grace
and beauty, which revealed themselves through
dirt and rags,

On May 19, 1883, camp was moved five or
six miles to a position giving the usual abun
dance of water and rather better grass. It was
a small park in the centre of a thick growth of
young pines. Upon unsaddling, the Chiricahuas
were counted, and found to number seventy,
which total before noon had swollen to an even
hundred, not including "Chihuahua" and those
gone back with him.

The Chiricahuas were reserved, but good-
humored. Several of them spoke Spanish flu-

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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

ently. Rations were issued in small quantity,
ponies being killed for meat. Two or three of
the Indians bore fresh bullet-wounds from the
late fight. On the succeeding evening, May 20,
1883, the Chiricahuas were again numbered at
breakfast. They had increased to 121 sixty be
ing women and girls, the remainder, old men,
young men, and boys.

All said that "Chihuahua'' and his comrades
were hard at work gathering the tribe together
and sending them in.

Toward eight o'clock a fearful hubbub was
heard in the tall cliffs overlooking camp; In
dians fully armed could be descried running
about from crag to crag, evidently much per
plexed and uncertain what to do. They began
to interchange cries with those in our midst,
and, after a brief interval, a couple of old
squaws ventured down the face of the preci
pice, followed at irregular distances by war
riors, who hid themselves in the rocks half-way
down.

They asked whether they were to be hurt if
they came in.
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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

One of the scouts and one of the Chiricahuas
went out to them to say that it made no differ
ence whether they came in or not; that "Chi
huahua" and all his people had surrendered,
and that if these new arrivals came in during
the day they should not be harmed; that until
"Chihuahua" and the last of his band had had
a chance to come in and bring Charlie Mc-
Comas hostilities should be suspended. The
Chiricahuas were still fearful of treachery and
hung like hawks or vultures to the protecting
shadows of inaccessible pinnacles one thousand
feet above our position. Gradually their fears
wore off, and in parties of two and three, by
various trails, they made their way to General
CrooFs fire. They were a band of thirty-six war
riors, led by "Geronimo," who had just returned
from a bloody foray in Chihuahua. "Geronimo"
expressed a desire to have a talk; but General
Crook declined to have anything to do with him
or his party beyond saying that they had now
an opportunity to see for themselves that their
own people were against them; that we had
penetrated to places vaunted as impregnable;

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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

that the Mexicans were coming in from all
sides; and that "Geronimo" could make up his
mind for peace or war just as he chose.

This reply disconcerted "Geronimo"; he
waited for an hour, to resume the conversation,
but received no encouragement. He and his
warriors were certainly as fine-looking a lot of
pirates as ever cut a throat or scuttled a ship;
not one among them who was not able to travel
forty to fifty miles a day over these gloomy
precipices and along these gloomy canons. In
muscular development, lung and heart power,
they were, without exception, the finest body
of human beings I had ever looked upon. Each
was armed with a breech-loading Winchester;
most had nickel-plated revolvers of the latest
pattern, and a few had also bows and knees.
They soon began to talk with the Apache
scouts, who improved the occasion to inform
them that not only had they come down with
General Crook, but that from both Sonora and
Chihuahua Mexican soldiers might be looked
for in swarms.

"Geronimo" was much humbled by this, and
went a second time to General Crook to have a
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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

talk. He assured him that he had always wanted
to be at peace, but that he had been as much
sinned against as sinning; that he had been ill-
treated at the San Carlos and driven away; that
the Mexicans had been most treacherous in
their dealings with his people, and that he
couldn't believe a word they said. They had
made war upon his women and children, but
had run like coyotes from his soldiers. He had
been trying to open communications with the
Mexican generals in Chihuahua to arrange for
an exchange of prisoners. If General Crook
would let him go back to San Carlos, and guar
antee him just treatment, he would gladly work
for his own living, and follow the path of peace.
He simply asked for a trial; if he could not
make peace, he and his men would die in these
mountains, fighting to the last. He was not a
bit afraid of Mexicans alone; but he could not
hope to prolong a contest with Mexicans and
Americans united, in these ranges, and with so
many Apache allies assisting them. General
Crook said but little; it amounted to this: that
"Geronino" could make up his mind as to what
he wanted, peace or war.

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May 21st was one of the busiest days of the
expedition. "Geronimo," at early dawn, came
to see General Crook, and told him he v/ished
for peace. He earnestly promised amendment,
and begged to be taken back to San Carlos. He
asked permission to get all his people together,
and said he had sent some of his young men off
to hurry them in from all points. He could not
get them to answer his signals, as they imagined
them to be made by Apache scouts trying to
ensnare them. Chiricahuas were coming in all
the morning, all ages, and both sexes, sent
in by "Chihuahua" and his party; most of these
were mounted on good ponies, and all drove
pack and loose animals before them. Early in
the day there was seen winding through the
pine timber a curious procession, mostly
young warriors, of an aggregate of thirty-eight
souls, driving steers and work cattle, and rid
ing ponies and burros. All these were armed
with Winchester and Springfield breech-load
ers, with revolvers and lances whose blades
were old cavalry sabres. The little boys carried
revolvers, lances, and bows and arrows. This
was the band of Kantenne (Looking-Glass), a

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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

young chief, who claimed to be a Mexican
Apache and to belong to the Sierra Madre, in
whose recesses he had been born and raised.

The question of feeding all these mouths was
getting to be a very serious one. We had started
out with sixty days* supplies, one-third of which
had been consumed by our own command, and
a considerable percentage lost or damaged
when mules rolled over the precipices. The
great heat of the sun had melted much bacon,
and there was the usual wastage incident to
movements in campaign. Stringent orders were
given to limit issues to the lowest possible
amount; while the Chiricahuas were told that
they must cut and roast all the mescal to be
found, and kill such cattle and ponies as could
be spared. The Chiricahua young men assumed
the duty of butchering the meat Standing
within five or six feet of a steer, a young buck
would prod the doomed beast one lightning
lance-thrust immediately behind the left fore-
shoulder, and, with no noise other than a single
bellow of fear and agony, the beef would fall
forward upon its knees, dead,

Camp at this period presented a medley of

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noises not often found united under a military
standard. Horses were neighing, mules braying,
and bells jingling, as the herds were brought
in to be groomed. The ring of axes against the
trunks of stout pines and oaks, the hum of
voices, the squalling of babies, the silvery
laughter of children at play, and the occasional
music of an Apache fiddle or flute, combined in
a pleasant discord which left the listener uncer
tain whether he was in the bivouac of grim-
visaged war or among a band of school-chil
dren. Our Apache scouts the Tontos espe
cially treated the Chiricahuas with dignified
reserve: the Sierra Blancas (White Mountain)
had intermarried with them, and were naturally
more familiar, but all watched their rifles and
cartridges very carefully to guard against
treachery. The squaws kept at work, jerking
and cooking meat and mescal for consumption
on the way back to San Carlos. The entrails
were the coveted portions, for the possession of
which the more greedy or more muscular
fought with frequency.

Two of these copper-skinned ladies engaged
in a pitched battle; they rushed for each other

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AN APACHE CAMPAIGN

like a couple of infuriated Texas steers; hair
flew, blood dripped from battered noses, and
two "Human forms divine" were scratched and
torn by sharp nails accustomed to this mode of
warfare. The old squaws chattered and gab
bled, little children screamed and ran, warriors
stood in a ring, and from a respectful distance
gazed stolidly upon the affray. No one dared to
interfere. There is no tiger more dangerous than
an infuriated squaw; she's a fiend incarnate.
The packers and soldiers looked on, discussing
the points of the belligerents. "The little one's
built like a hired man/' remarks one critic.
"Ya-as; but the old un's a He, and doan* you for-
git it/* Two rounds settled the battle in favor
of the older contestant, although the younger
remained on the ground, her bleeding nostrils
snorting defiance, her eyes blazing fire, and her
tongue volleying forth Apache imprecations.

But all interest was withdrawn from tins
spectacle and converged upon a file of five
wretched, broken-down Mexican women, one
of whom bore a nursing baby, who had come
within the boundaries of our camp and stood in
mute terror, wonder, joy, and hope, unable to

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realize that they were free. They were a party
of captives seized by "Geronimo" in his last
raid into Chihuahua. When washed, rested, and
fed a small amount of food, they told a long,
rambling story, which is here condensed: They
were the wives of Mexican soldiers captured
near one of the stations of the Mexican Central
Railway just two weeks previously. Originally
there had been six in the party, but "Geronimo"
had sent back the oldest and feeblest with a let
ter to the Mexican general, saying that he
wanted to make peace with the whites, and
would do so, provided the Mexicans returned
the Apache women and children held prisoners
by them; if they refused, he would steal all the
Mexican women and children he could lay
hands on, and keep them as hostages, and
would continue the war until he -had made So-
nora and Chihuahua a desert. The women went
on to say that the greatest terror prevailed in
Chihuahua at the mere mention of the name of
"Geronimo," whom the peasantry believed to
be the devil, sent to punish them for their sins.
"Geronimo" had killed the Mexican soldiers
with rocks, telling his warriors he had no am-
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munition to waste upon Mexicans. The women
had suffered incredible torture climbing the
rough skirts of lofty ranges, fording deep
streams of icy-cold water, and breaking
through morasses, jungles and forests. Their
garments had been rent into rags by briars and
brambles, feet and ankles scratched, torn, and
swollen by contusions from sharp rocks. They
said that when "Geronimo" had returned to the
heart of the mountains, and had come upon one
of our lately abandoned camps, his dismay was
curious to witness. The Chiricahuas with Kim
made a hurried but searching examination of
the neighborhood, satisfied themselves that
their enemies the Americans had gained ac
cess to their strongholds, and that they had
with them a multitude of Apache scouts, and
then started away in the direction of our pres
ent bivouac, paying no further heed to the cap
tured women or to the hundreds of stolen stock
they were driving away from Chihuahua. It
may be well to anticipate a little, and say that
the cattle in question drifted out on the back
trail, getting into the foot-hills and falling into
the hands of the Mexicans in pursuit, who

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claimed their usual wonderful victory. The
women did not dare to turn back, and, uncer
tain what course to pursue, stayed quietly by
the half-dead embers of our old camp-fires,
gathering up a few odds and ends of rags with
which to cover their nakedness; and of cast
away food, which they devoured with the vo
racity of famished wolves. When morning
dawned they arose, half frozen, from the
couches they had made, and staggered along in
the direction taken by the fleeing Chiricahuas,
whom, as abeady narrated, they followed to
where they now were.

And now they were free! Great God! Could it
be possible?

The gratitude of these poor, ignorant,
broken-down creatures welled forth in praise
and glorification to God. "Praise be to the All-
Powerful God!" ejaculated one. "And to the
most Holy Sacrament!" echoed her companions.
"Thanks to our Blessed Lady of Guadalupe!"
"And to the most Holy Mary, Virgin of Sole-
dad, who has taken pity upon us!" It brought
tears to the eyes of the stoutest veterans to wit
ness this line of unfortunates, reminding us of
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our mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters. All
possible kindness and attention were shown
them.

The reaction came very near upsetting two,
who became hysterical from over-excitement,
and could not be assured that the Chiricahuas
were not going to take them away. They did
not recover their natural composure until the
expedition had crossed the boundary line.

"Geronimo" had another interview with
General Crook, whom he assured he wanted to
make a peace to last forever. General Crook
replied that "Geronimo" had waged such
bloody war upon our people and the Mexicans
that he did not care to let him go back to San
Carlos; a howl would be raised against any
man who dared to grant terms to an outlaw for
whose head two nations clamored. If **Ge-
ronimo" were wiping to lay down his arms and
go to work at farming, General Crook would
allow him to go back; otherwise the best thing
he could do would be to remain just where he
was and fight it out.

"I am not taking your arms from you," said
the General, "because I am not afraid of you

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with them. You have been allowed to go
about camp freely, merely to let you see that
we have strength enough to exterminate you if
we want to; and you have seen with your own
eyes how many Apaches are fighting on our
side and against you. In making peace with
the Americans, you must also be understood as
making peace with the Mexicans, and also that
you are not to be fed in idleness, but set to
work at farming or herding, and make your
own living/'

"Geronimo," in his reply, made known his
contempt for the Mexicans, asserted that he
had whipped them every tune, and in the last
fight with them hadn't lost a man. He would
go to the San Carlos with General Crook and
work at farming or anything else. All he asked
for was fair play. He contended that it was
unfair to start back to the San Carlos at that
time, when his people were scattered like quail,
and when the women and children now in our
hands were without food or means of trans
portation. The old and the little ones could
not walk. The Chiricahuas had many ponies
and donkeys grazing in the different canons.
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Why not remain one week longer? "Loco"
and all the other Chiricahuas would then have
arrived; all the ponies would be gathered up;
a plenty of mescal and pony-meat on hand, and
the march could be made securely and safely.
But if General Crook left the Sierra Madre, the
Mexicans would come in to catch and loll the
remnant of the band, with whom "Geronimo"
would cast his fortunes.

General Crook acknowledged the justice of
much which "Geronimo" had said, but de
clined to take any action not in strict accord
with the terms of the convention. He would
now move back slowly, so as not to crowd the
young and feeble too much; they should have
time to finish roasting mescal, and most of those
now out could catch up with the column; but
those who did not would have to take the
chances of reaching San Carlos in safety.

"Geronimo" reiterated his desire for peace;
said that he himself would start out to gather
and bring in the remnants of his people, and
he would cause the most diligent search to be
made for Charlie McComas. If possible, he
would join the Americans before they got out

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of the Sierra Madre. If not, he would make
his way to the San Carlos as soon as this could
be done without danger; "but/' concluded he,
"I will remain here until I have gathered up
the last man, woman, and child of the Chirica-
huas."

All night long the Chiricahuas and the
Apache scouts danced together in sign of peace
and good-will. The drums were camp-kettles
partly filled with water and covered tightly
with a well-soaked piece of calico. The drum
sticks were willow saplings curved into a hoop
at one extremity. The beats recorded one hun
dred to the minute, and were the same dull,
solemn thump which scared Cortez and his
beleagured followers during la Noche triste.
No Caucasian would refer to it as music;
nevertheless, it had a fascination all its own
comparable to the whir-r-r of a rattlesnake.
And so the song, chanted to the measure of the
drumming, had about it a weird harmony which
held listeners spell-bound. When the dance
began, two old hags, white-haired and stiff with
age, pranced in the centre of the ring, warming
up under the stimulus of the chorus until they
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became lively as crickets. With them were
two or three naked boys of very tender years.
The ring itself included as many as two hun
dred Indians of both sexes, whose varied cos
tumes of glittering hues made a strange setting
to the scene as the dancers shuffled and sang
in the silvery rays of the moon and the flicker
ing light of the camp-fires.

On May 23, 1883, rations were issued to 220
Chiricahuas, and, soon after, Nane, one of the
most noted and influential of the Chiricahua
chiefs, rode into camp with seventeen of his
people. He has a strong face, marked with in
telligence, courage, and good nature, but with
an understratum of cruelty and vindictiveness.
He has received many wounds in his countless
fights with the whites, and limps very percep
tibly in one leg. He reported that Chiricahuas
were coming in by every trail, and that all
would go to the San Carlos as soon as they
collected their families.

On the 24th of May the march back to the
San Carlos began. All the old Chiricahuas
were piled on mules, donkeys, and ponies; so
were the weak little children and feeble women.

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The great majority streamed along on foot,
nearly all wearing garlands of cotton-wood
foliage to screen them from the sun. The dis
tance traveled was not great, and camp was
made by noon.

The scene at the Bavispe River was wonder
fully picturesque. Sit down on this flat rock
and feast your eyes upon the silver waves flash
ing in the sun. Don't scare that little girl who
is about to give her baby brother a much-
needed bath. The little dusky brat all eyes
is looking furtively at you and ready to
bawl if you draw nearer. Opposite are two
old crones filling olios (jugs or jars) of basket-
work, rendered fully water-proof by a coating
of either mesquite or pinon pitch. Alongside
of them are two others, who are utilizing the
entrails of a cow for the same purpose. The
splash and yell on your right., as you correctly
divine, come from an Apache "Tom Sawyer/'
who will one day mount the gallows. The
friendly greeting and request for "tobacco
shnioke" are proffered by one of the boys, who
has kindly been eating a big portion of your
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ineals for several days past, and feels so friendly
toward you that he announces himself in a
pleasant, off-hand sort of way as your "Sikisn'
(brother). Behind you are grouped Apache
scouts, whose heads are encircled with red flan
nel bandages, and whose rifles and cartridges
are never laid aside. Horses and mules plunge
belly-deep into the sparkling current; soldiers
come and go, some to drink, some to get buck
ets filled with water, and some to soak neck,
face, and hands, before going back to din
ner.

In this camp we remained several days. The
old and young squaws had cut and dried large
packages of jerked beef, and had brought
down from the hillsides donkey-loads of mescal
heads, which were piled in ovens of hot stones
covered with wet grass and clay. The process
of roasting, or rather steaming, mescal takes
from three to four days, and resembles some
what the mode of baking clams in New Eng
land. The Apache scouts passed the time
agreeably enough in gambling with the Chiri-
cahuas, whom they fleeced unmercifully, win-

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ning hundreds of dollars in gold, silver, and
paper at the games of monte, conquien, tzirchis,
and mushka.

The attractive pools of the Bavispe wooed
groups of white soldiers and packers, and
nearly the whole strength of the Chiricahua
women and children, who disported in the re
freshing waters with the agility and grace of
nereids and tritons. The modesty of the
Apaches of both sexes, under all circumstances,
is praiseworthy.

"Chato" and "Loco" told General Crook
this morning that "Geronimo" had sent them
back to say that the Chiricahuas were very
much scattered since the fight, and that he had
not been as successful as he anticipated in get
ting them united and in corraling their herds of
ponies. They did not want to leave a single
one of their people behind, and urged General
Crook to stay in his present camp for a week
longer, if possible. "Loco," for his part, ex
pressed himself as anxious for peace. He had
never wished to leave San Carlos. He wanted
to go back there and obtain a little farm, and
own cattle and horses, as he once did. Here it
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may be proper to say that all the chiefs of the
Chiricahuas "Geronimo," "Loco," "Chato,"
"Nane," "Bonito/* "Chihuahua," "Maugas,"
"Zele,~ and "Kantenne" are men of notice
able brain power, physically perfect and men
tally acute just the individuals to lead a for
lorn hope in the face of every obstacle.

The Chiricahua children, who had become
tired of swimming, played at a new sport to
day, a mimic game of war, a school of practice
analogous to that established by old Fagan for
the instruction of young London pickpockets.
Three boys took the lead, and represented Mex
icans, who endeavored to outrun, hide from, or
elude their pursuers, who trailed them to their
covert, surrounded it, and poured in a flight of
arrows. One was left for dead, stretched upon
the ground, and the other two were seized and
carried into captivity. The fun became very
exciting, so much so that the corpse, ignoring
the proprieties, raised itself up to see how the
battle sped.

In such sports, in such constant exercise,
swimming, riding, running up and down the
steepest and most slippery mountains, the

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Apache passes his boyish years. No wonder
his bones are of iron, his sinews of wire, his
muscles of India-rubber.

On May 27, 1883, the Chiricahuas had fin
ished roasting enough mescal to last them to
the San Carlos. One of the Apache scouts
came running in very much excited. He told
his story to the effect that, while hunting some
distance to the north, he had discovered a large
body of Mexican soldiers; they were driving
back the band of cattle run off by "Geronimo,"
and previously referred to. The scout tried
to communicate with the Mexicans, who
imagined him to be a hostile Indian, and fired
three shots at him. Lieutenant Forsyth, Al.
Zeiber, and a small detachment of white and
Indian soldiers started out to overtake the
Mexicans. This they were unable to do, al
though they went some fifteen miles.

On the 28th, 29th, and 30th of May the
march was continued back toward the San
Carlos. The rate of progress was very slow,
the Mexican captives not being able to ride
any great distance along the rough trails, and
several of our men being sick. Two of the
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scouts were so far gone with pneumonia that
their death was predicted every hour, in spite
of the assurances of the "medicine-men" that
their incantations would bring them through all
right. "Geronimo;' "Chato," "Kantenne," and
"Chihuahua" came back late on the night of
the 28th, leading a large body of 116 of their
people, making an aggregate of 384 in camp
on the 29th.

On the 30th, after a march, quite long under
the circumstances, fifteen to eighteen miles,
we crossed the main divide of the Sierra
Madre at an altitude of something over 8,000
feet The pine timber was large and dense,
and much of it on fire, the smoke and heat
parching our throats, and blackening our faces.

With this pine grew a little mescal and a
respectable amount of the madrona, or moun
tain mahogany. Two or three deer were killed
by the Apache scouts, and as many turkeys;
trout were visible in all the streams. The line
of march was prolific in mineral formations,
basalt, lava, sandstone, granite, and limestone.
The day the command descended the Chihua
hua side of the range it struck the trail of a

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large body of Mexican troops, and saw an in
scription cut into the bark of a mahogany stat
ing that the Eleventh Battalion had been here
on the 21st of May,

The itinerary of the remainder of the home
ward march may be greatly condensed. The
line of travel lay on the Chihuahua side and
close to the summit of the range. The coun
try was extremely rough, cut up with rocky
canons beyond number and ravines of great
depth, all flowing with water. Pine forests cov
ered all the elevated ridges, but the canons and
lower foothills had vegetation of a different
character: oak, juniper, maple, willow, rose, and
blackberry bushes, and strawberry vines. The
weather continued almost as previously de
scribed, the days clear and serene, the nights
bitter cold, with ice forming in pails and ket
tles on the 2d and 3d of June. No storms
worthy of mention assailed the command, the
sharp showers that fell two or three times be
ing welcomed as laying the soot and dust.

Game was found in abundance, deer and
turkey. This the Apache scouts were per
mitted to shoot and catch, to eke out the
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rations which had completely failed, the last
issue being made June 4th. From that date
till June llth, inclusive, all hands lived upon
the country. The Apaches improved the ex
cellent opportunity to show their skill as
hunters and their accuracy with fire-arms.

The command was threatened by a great
prairie fire on coming down into the broad
grassy valley of the Janos. Under the im
petus of a fierce wind the flames were rushing
upon camp. There was not a moment to be
lost All hands turned out, soldiers, scouts,
squaws, Chiricahua warriors, and even chil
dren. Each bore a branch of willow or cotton-
wood, a blanket, or scrap of canvas. The con
flagration had already seized the hill-crest
nearest our position; brownish and gray clouds
poured skyward in compact masses; at their feet
a long line of scarlet flame flashed and leaped
high in air. It was a grand, a terrible sight:
in front was smiling nature, behind, ruin and
desolation. The heat created a vacuum^ and
the air, pouring in, made whirlwinds, which
sent the bkck funnels of soot winding and
twisting with the symmetry of hour-glasses

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almost to the zenith. For one moment the
line of fire paused, as if to rest after gaining
the hill top; it was only a moment. "Here she
comes'/* yelled the men on the left; and like
a wild beast flinging high its tawny mane of
cloud and flashing its fangs of flame, the fire
was upon, around, and about us.

Our people stood bravely up to their work,
and the swish! swish! swish! of willow brooms
proved that camp was not to be surrendered
without a struggle.

We won the day; that is ? we saved camp,
herds, and a small area of pasturage; but over
a vast surface of territory the ruthless flames
swept, mantling the land with soot and an
opaque pall of mist and smoke through which
the sun's rays could not penetrate. Several
horses and mules were badly burned, but none
to death.

For two or three nights afterwards the hori
zon was gloriously lighted with lines of fire
creeping over the higher ridges. As we de
bouched into the broad plain, through which
trickled the shriveled current of the Janos, no
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one would have suspected that we were not a
column of Bedouins. A long caravan, stretched
out for a mile upon the trail, resolved itself
upon closer approach into a confused assem
blage of ponies, horses, and mules, with bundles
or without, but in every case freighted with
humanity. Children were packed by twos and
threes, while old women and feeble men got
along as best they could, now riding, now walk
ing. The scouts had decked themselves with
paint and the ChMcahua women had donned
all their finery of rough silver bracelets, wooden
crosses, and saints' pictures captured from Mex
icans. This undulating plain, in which we now
found ourselves, spread far to the north and
east, and was covered with bunch and grama
grasses, and dotted with cedar. The march
brought us to Alisos Creek (an affluent of the
Janos), a thousand yards or more above the
spot where the Mexican commander Garcia,
had slaughtered so many ChMcahua women
and children. Human bones, picked white and
clean by coyotes, glistened in the sandy bed of
the stream. Apache baskets and other furni-

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ture were strewn about. A clump of graves
headed by rude crosses betrayed the severity of
the loss inflicted upon the Mexicans.

Between the 5th and 8th of June we crossed
back (west) into Sonora, going over the asper-
ous peak known as the Cocospera.

In this vicinity were many varieties of min
eral granite gneiss, porphyry, conglomerate,
shale, sandstone, and quartz, and travel was
as difficult almost as it had been in the earlier
days of the march. We struck the head waters
of Pitisco Creek, in a very rugged canon, then
Elias Creek, going through another fine game
region, and lastly, after crossing a broad table
land mantled with grama grass, mesquite, Span
ish bayonet, and Palo Verde, mescal, and palm-
ilia, bivouacked on the San Bernardino River,
close to a tule swamp of blue, slimy mud.

The scouts plastered their heads with this
mud, and dug up the bulbs of the tule, which,
when roasted, are quite palatable.

On the 15th of June the command recrossed
the national boundary, and reached Silver
Springs, Arizona, the camp of the reserve under
Colonel Biddle, from whom and from all of
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whose officers and men we received the warm
est conceivable welcome. Every disaster had
been predicted and asserted regarding the
column, from which no word had come, directly
or indirectly since May 5th. The Mexican
captives were returned to their own country and
the Chiricahuas marched, under Crawford, to
the San Carlos Agency.

Unfortunately the papers received at Silver
Springs were full of inflammatory telegrams,
stating that the intention of the government
was to hang all the Chiricahua men, without
distinction, and to parcel out the women and
children among tribes in the Indian Territory.
This news, getting among the Chiricahuas, pro
duced its legitimate result. Several of the
chiefs and many of the head men hid back in
the mountains until they could learn exactly
what was to be their fate. The Mexican troops
went in after them, and had two or three severe
engagements, and were, of course, whipped
each time. When the road was clear the Chir
icahuas kept their promises to the letter, and
brought to the San Carlos the last man, woman,
and child of their people.

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They have been quietly scattered in small
groups around the reservation, the object being
to effect tribal disintegration, to bring individ
uals and families face to face with the progress
made by more peaceable Apaches, and at same
time to enable trusted members of the latter
bands to maintain a more perfect surveillance
over every action of the Chiricahuas.

Charlie McComas was never found; the Chir
icahuas insist, and I think truthfully, that he
was in the rancheria destroyed by Crawford;
that he escaped, terror-stricken, to the depths
of the mountains; that the country was so
rough, the timber and brush-wood so thick that
his tracks could not be followed, even had there
not been such a violent fall of rain during the
succeeding nights. All accounts agree in this.

Altogether the Chiricahuas delivered up
thirteen captives, women and children, held
by them as hostages.

128

ship, possessed a sharp eye ? a vivid style
and a sarebnic sense of humor-all erf
which are exem^ "^ed in this book which
supplements the materials in his classic
On The Border With Crook This repub-
licatJon the first since 1886-restores to
print ^c^.^i and important piece of
Western Americana. It is reprinted almost
verbatim; the only significant change ha :
been the spelling of Geronimo's narre
which, in the original., was spelled

J. Frank Dobie, a shrewd aid ab'e
judge of values in Western History, has
written the introduction.

110727