Apache Campaigns - Fort Huachuca - U.S. Army

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managed to slip away and head north for the Navajo country.
My mother, my sister, and I were riding a big mule. Now and then we could hear the
voices of the wild Indians on all sides of us as they called softly to each other in the darkness.
Finally I dozed. It is a wonder I didn’t fall off the mule but every now and then my mother
punched me to wake me up. It surely was a tiresome journey, being the second night march
we had made. It was not to be the last.
By morning we were completely worn out. Or so we thought. We were to change our
minds about this a few hours later when fighting began. We rested at the spring at the foot of
the mountains for a little while then continued on toward the southeast. During the night we
had crossed the San Simon Valley, a wide rolling plain, and by noon had reached the tip of
Stein’s Peak a few miles northwest of the little railroad station of Stein on the Southern Pacific.
The whole band moved half way up the mountainside while a dozen warriors were sent
southeast on a scouting expedition.
At this time a party of U.S. Indian Scouts moving ahead of some troops were looking
for our band. Instead of finding us our reconnoitering party located them and at once
attacked, killing one of the scouts. The latter though badly outnumbered put up a good fight.
They set fire to the grass to tell their main body that they had met the hostile Indians.
Those of us who were watching the skirmishing from high up on the mountainside were
getting restless. The real old men were hiding behind the rocks but some of us more adventurous
young fellows climbed up where we could see. There was a clear view far to the north,
east, and south. After about an hour we saw two troops of cavalry [there were six troops in
all] approaching from the vicinity of the railroad station. This was the first chance most of us
had ever had to see a real battle and we were trembling with excitement.
When the soldiers had reached a point about a mile from our hiding place our warriors
stripped off their shirts and prepared for action. I heard the leaders calling all able-bodied
men to assemble for battle. Of course the way Indians fought, this was all voluntary. The
chiefs were not able to order any man to fight, as the officers could the soldiers. But the
Indians would go into battle to keep from being shamed and to protect their families. I was
still considered to be too young to fight, was without experience, and was not given a weapon.
A few weeks later I was to be given more responsibility as an apprentice or helper to Geronimo.
Soon we saw our warriors moving down toward a deep U-shaped ravine. The soldiers
were approaching up the canyon while our men were on the rim. The fighting began. Three
of our men who were wounded were carried back up the mountainside. Maybe some were
killed but I didn’t see any. The firing grew very heavy, almost continuous. The soldiers fired
ferocious volleys. Those of us who were watching were shivering with excitement as our men
slowly withdrew under this fire. Finally toward sunset our whole band moved to the southwest
side of the mountain and the firing died out. I don’t think we ever found out how much
damage we did to the troops.
As the wide valley to the west of us turned purple then black the Indians began getting
their horses ready for another long night march. The chiefs told us to move very quietly down
the mountainside, as they believed that the enemy might still be near. But we were undisturbed
by anyone.
A person who has not traveled through these rough mountains at night cannot appreciate
how dangerous and unpleasant such a flight can be. In addition to thorns, cactus, yucca,
and other spear-like plants to scratch you, you must avoid knife-like rocks that you can’t see,
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