Apache Campaigns - Fort Huachuca - U.S. Army

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side of the defile to see if the muzzle of a gun or an ugly Apache face might show in that
direction. Finally, reaching a point only a few feet from the mouth of the passage, I took
shelter behind a projecting angle and peeped through the mouth or doorway, realizing that the
passage ended abruptly at the end of the perpendicular walls, and that just beyond was a
pretty little circular opening with a nearly smooth floor, walled in in every direction, the rocks
decreasing in height as they approached the further side, finally falling away and leaving an
open passage out right opposite my position. I could also see scattered about this circular
basin several small mounds of ashes, showing where the Indian camp-fires had been. At this
moment I was startled by the cracking of a twig under foot to the rear. Whirling instantly with
cocked carbine, I saw Yuma Bill, his hand upheld in warning, who had become ashamed and
followed me on the trail.
He advanced cautiously, furtively glancing around in every direction, closed in behind
me and took a look at the little basin, and said, below his breath, “Apache there; want you to
come out.” Whispering, “Be ready to shoot Bill; I see if Apache here,” I quickly crossed the
space to the mouth of the defile, and then thrusting my head forward, I took one sweeping
glance around. A few heaps of ashes, some Indian belongings used in camping scattered
among the surrounding rocks—that was all. Bill came across to where I was, and I then
stepped out several paces into the open, watching for a sign of the enemy. None appeared. In
a moment I said, “Bill, me no believe Apache here.” He sprang up on a projecting ledge, and
looking across the open, said: “Yes, no Apache here—him gone. I see him trail go over
there.” An examination gave us a plain view of the trail going out of this basin, and with the
eye we could follow it nearly a mile ahead, showing a different color in that soil, so unused to
the footsteps of men. Examining the ground in the vicinity, Bill told me that the Apaches had
lain in ambush here, but seeing the smoke from their campfires still hung over the place, had
abandoned it.
Resuming our march, we followed the trail with flankers out as at first; within three
miles, however, it grew larger by the addition of other Indians, and my scouts grew frightened
and difficult to handle. The two Mojave Indians, especially the old one, Moh-kay-nay-hah
(Mountain Deer Killer), were stampeded, and had such an influence over the younger one,
Quay-day-lay-thay-go (Blood), that they lingered behind, and were of no use. It occurred to
me, though, that in case we were attacked they would probably go back to the cavalry and
give the alarm. On reaching the top of the first high ridge on the eastern side of the range we
could distinguish the trail for a considerable distance. It seemed to lead down the mountainside
towards the foot-hills, as if tending towards the great Gila Plain, in a northeasterly
direction, where we could see the line of the Gila River as it flowed down from the mountains
in New Mexico into Arizona. Turning to Bill, I said: “Bill, Apaches cross plain to Gila River
to kill people in settlements!” “Me think so, too,” was the reply.
The patrol continued to follow the Indians’ trail and in the process met up with two very
frightened prospectors. Eventually they spotted two Indians about a half-mile to their front.
As they followed them, riding five abreast and trying to keep out of sight, the rode into an
ambuscade.
...It then seemed to occur to Yuma Bill that he had not looked over the rock; or he may
have heard some noise, for he jerked his face to suddenly and quickly to the front that he came
near striking it against mine as I was leaning looking to the right. I believe that the portion of
a second that I gained in suddenly jerking my face out of the way and his looking over the top
HUACHUCA ILLUSTRATED