Apache Campaigns - Fort Huachuca - U.S. Army

of the rock as quickly as he did saved my life, for in a flash I saw poked over the rock a thick
array of gun-barrels, with twelve or fifteen Indian heads and faces showing behind them. At
the same instant Bill cried out, in an intense shriek, as if it was one word, the sentence,
“Watch out, Lieutenant McDonald!” Throwing myself forward on my horse’s neck, I grasped
the reins close to the bit on each side to turn him away, and then came the volley, and with the
smoke in my face and eyes I threw my horse’s head to the left-about, over the bodies of the
three dead Yumas, that had been riding on my left, and had not fallen under his feet. I knew,
from an exclamation, that Bill had been struck, and somehow was conscious that he had not
fallen from his saddle. I heard the corporal, who, being a little behind and lower down the
slope, had not been exposed to the volley, wheel to the rear and call, “Come on, Lieutenant,”
and I galloped after him, the three troop horses that the dead scouts had ridden whirling and
running abreast of me, as they had been drilled to do in the troop, and we made for a moment
a correct set of fours, in retreat; but realizing that it would not do to go so rapidly, I called to
the corporal to watch out for his horse, and began pulling in on my own, fearing he would fall
in the descent and cripple both me and himself. Old Don was a splendid animal, but hardmouthed,
and I pulled so hard that I actually sprung one branch of a fine steel bit before I
could stop him. When I had gotten, say, fifty yards away I came to a quick halt and wheeled
left-about, getting a bullet through my hat as I did it, and another singed my jaw and neck.
At this moment a tremendous volley belched forth from just behind the rock, and I
realized that there was another and much larger body of Indians lying there. Still, I took aim
and fired at the Indians who were on top of the big rock shooting at us, and instantly they
jumped, rolled and tumbled off in all directions, seeking safety; for Indians hunt cover always
if it can be had. Just as I turned to face the enemy I saw a sight that I shall never forget.
Yuma Bill had stopped and turned almost simultaneously with myself—possibly a second
sooner. As his horse halted, facing the foe, he rose upright in his stirrups, standing straight as
an arrow, every nerve and muscle at full tension, his big eyes blazing, and his long black hair
floating behind him, even his horse standing with the glory of the battle on him (and it is
glorious, if cruel), with arched neck and fiery eyes, in an expectant attitude, ready to leap, but
nevertheless standing stock-still, I saw Bill’s long rifle come up swift and steady, but I saw no
more. I was closing the breech-block of my carbine and raising it to my shoulder. I heard the
report of Bill’s gun, and immediately came the heavy volley I have mentioned, followed by my
own shot, and the disappearance of the Indians on the rocks in front of me.
It was time to wheel now, and as I closed in my second cartridge I turned to the rightabout
looking for Bill. There stood his horse with his neck distended and blood pouring from
several wounds, Bill still in the saddle, but drooping forward, his head turning downward by
the side of his horse’s neck. I saw his head touch the tip of the horse’s mane, which was
towards me, and I suppose he fell on his head, but I did not see him leave the saddle, for my
horse turned and again dashed to the rear, and during the next three or four hundred yards
splinters of rocks and gravel struck us both, thrown up by the hot fire of the Apaches.
Catching up with the corporal, we turned again at 700 yards distance, and paused to see their
location and judge of their number. I pulled out my watch and looked at the hour. We
estimated the hostiles at 150, and saw that we had only struck the first point of the ambuscade.
We had no time to linger, so I signalled the two Mojave scouts to join us, which they did.
Then we came once more upon the two mining prospectors, who had heard the firing, and
were again running around as before, moaning and crying. We put them upon the horses of
A MAGAZINE OF THE FORT HUACHUCA MUSEUM
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