USA > Arizona > History of Arizona, Vol. VIII > Part 11
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The exterminating policies had received a fair trial in Arizona and had been found to be a fail- ure. A careful study of the Indians, their num-
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bers two hundred years ago, and the numbers within the United States to-day, sets aside at once the possibility of exterminating them. This policy has been tried several times, but the Indians continue as numerous as ever.
There had been killed by Indians within a short time on the Pedro, Henry Long, Alex. Mc- Kenzie, Sam Brown, Simms, and others; on the Santa Cruz, Wooster and wife, Sanders and others; on the Sonoita, Pennington, Jackson, Carroll, Rotherwell and others. These murders were all laid to the Indians on the reservation, but, as a matter of fact, Cochise and his band were constantly raiding the country.
During the winter of 1870-71, there was no cessation to the amount of scouting conducted against the Apaches, who resorted to a system of tactics which had often been tried in the past, and always with success. A number of simul- taneous attacks were made at widely separated points, evidently to confuse both the troops and the settlers by spreading a vague sense of fear all over the Territory, and imposing upon the military an exceptional amount of work and hardship. Bourke says:
"Attacks were made in southern Arizona upon the stage stations at the San Pedro, and the Cienega, as well as the one near the Picacho, and upon the ranches in the Babacomori Valley, and in the San Pedro, near Tres Alamos. Then came the news of a fight at Pete Kitchen's, and, finally, growing bolder, the enemy drove off a herd of cattle from Tucson itself, some of them beeves, and others work oxen belonging to a wagon train from Texas. Lastly came the kill-
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ing of the stage mail rider, between the town and the Mission Church of San Xavier, and the massacre of the party of Mexicans going down to Sonora, which occurred not far from the Sonoita.
"One of the members of this last party was a beautiful young Mexican lady-Doña Trinidad Aguirre-who belonged to a very respectable family in the Mexican Republic, and was on her way back from a visit to relatives in Tucson. That one so young, so beautiful and bright, should have been snatched away by a most cruel death at the hands of the savages, aroused the people of all the country south of the Gila, and nothing was talked of, nothing was thought of, but vengence upon the Apaches.
"Lieutenant Howard B. Cushing was most ac- tive at this time, and kept his troop moving with- out respite. There were fights, and ambuscades, and attacks upon Indian rancherias, and night marches without number, several very success- ful. When the work oxen of the Texans above referred to were run off, the Apaches took them over the steepest, highest and rockiest part of the Sierra Santa Catalina. Cushing followed closely, guided by Manuel Duran and others. Progress was necessarily slow on account of the difficulties of the trail. The only result of the pursuit, however, was the recovery of the meat of the stock which the Apaches had killed when they reached the canyons under Trumbull's Peak. Three of Cushing's party were hurt in the ensuing fight, and several of the Indians were killed and wounded."
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Lieutenant Cushing was afterwards killed by the Indians, an account of which, given by Bourke, follows :
"On the 5th of May, 1871, Lieutenant Howard B. Cushing, Third Cavalry, with several civil- ians and three soldiers, was killed by the Chirica- hua Apaches, under their famous chief, Cochise, at the Bear Springs, in the Whetstone Moun- tains, about thirty-five miles from Tucson and about the same distance to the east of old Camp Crittenden. Cushing's whole force numbered twenty-two men, the larger part of whom was led into an ambuscade in the canyon containing the spring. The fight was a desperate one, and fought with courage and great skill on both sides. Our forces were surrounded before a shot had been fired; and it was while Cushing was en- deavoring to lead his men back that he received the wounds which killed him. Had it not been for the courage and good judgment displayed by Sergeant John Mott, who had seen a good deal of service against the Apaches, not one of the command would have escaped alive out of the canyon. Mott was in command of the rear- guard, and, in coming up to the assistance of Lieutenant Cushing, detected the Apaches mov- ing behind a low range of hills to gain Cushing's rear. He sent word ahead, and that induced Lieutenant Cushing to fall back. After Cush- ing dropped, the Apaches made a determined charge and came upon our men hand to hand. The little detachment could save only those horses and mules which were ridden at the mo- ment the enemy made the attack, because the men who had dismounted to fight on foot were unable
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to remount, such was the impetuosity of the rush made by the Chiricahuas. There were enough animals to 'ride and tie,' and Mott, by keeping up on the backbone of the hills running along the Babacomori Valley, was enabled to reach Camp Crittenden without being surrounded or ambuscaded.
"Inside of forty-eight hours there were three troops of cavalry en route to Crittenden, and in pursuit of the Apaches, but no good could be effected. Major William J. Ross, at that time in command of Camp Crittenden, was most energetic in getting word to the various military commands in the southern part of the country, as well as in extending every aid and kindness to the wounded brought in by Mott.
"When the combined force had arrived at Bear Springs, there was to be seen every evi- dence of a most bloody struggle. The bodies of Lieutenant Cushing and comrades lay where they had fallen, stripped of clothing, which the Apaches always carried off from their victims. In all parts of the narrow little canyon were the carcasses of ponies and horses half-eaten by the coyotes and buzzards; broken saddles, saddle- bags, canteens with bullet holes in them, pieces of harness and shreds of clothing scattered about, charred to a crisp in the flames which the savages had ignited in the grass to conceal their line of retreat.
"Of how many Apaches had been killed, there was not the remotest suggestion to be obtained. That there had been a heavy loss among the In- dians could be suspected from the signs of bodies
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having been dragged to certain points, and there, apparently, put on pony back.
"The Chiricahuas seemed to have ascended the canyon until they had attained the crest of the range in a fringe of pine timber; but no sooner did they pass over into the northern foot- hills than they broke in every direction, and did not re-unite until near our boundary line with Mexico, where their trail was struck and fol- lowed for several days by Major Gerald Russell of the Third Cavalry. They never halted until they regained the depths of the Sierra Madre, their chosen haunt, and towards which Russell followed them as long as his broken down animals could travel.
"Of the distinguished services rendered to Arizona by Lieutenant Cushing, a book might well be written. It is not intended to disparage anybody when I say that he had performed her- culean and more notable work, perhaps, than had been performed by any other officer of cor- responding rank, either before or since."
Lieutenant Cushing was one of the best and bravest officers in Arizona, and his continued campaigns against the hostiles had had a telling effect. He was considered the most successful Indian fighter in the army; brave, energetic and tireless, he followed the foe to their strong- holds and there attacked them with vigor and spirit, dealing them blows the savages could not withstand. In him Arizona lost one of her most worthy defenders; a man who, at this critical time, she could ill afford to part with. He was the Custer of Arizona, and it can be said of him : "It is a part of life and the mystery of fate, that
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to all men who must have their will, there comes a time when there is neither turning back nor to the side. It must be on, and on, and on, to an end that is either immortal or better to be forgot- ten. And it is from such ends that the children get either the story of shame, or the luster of a name shining out on the dark night of the past as a star of the greatest magnitude."
Lieutenant Cushing belonged to a family which won deserved renown during the Civil War. One of his brothers blew up the ram Albemarle; an- other died most heroically at his post of duty on the battlefield of Gettysburg; another, enlisted in the navy, died in the service.
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CHAPTER IX.
CITIZEN EXPEDITIONS AGAINST HOSTILES.
C. B. GENUNG'S DESCRIPTION OF TOWNSEND'S EX- PEDITION-INDIANS KILL HERDER AND STEAL HERBERT BOWERS' CATTLE-JOHN TOWNSEND APPOINTED CAPTAIN OF PURSUING PARTY- JOINED BY PARTY OF SOLDIERS UNDER LIEU- TENANT MORTON-CATCH INDIANS AND KILL THIRTY-FIVE-REST OF INDIANS ESCAPE- AGAIN CATCH AND KILL INDIANS-PURSUERS RETURN TO PRESCOTT AND ARE BANQUETTED- FIFTY-SIX INDIANS KILLED, AND ALMOST ALL STOCK RECOVERED.
One of the most successful raids against the In- dians by a volunteer party was made under the command of John Townsend in June, 1871, an ac- count of which is published in the Los Angeles "Mining Review" under date of May 13th, 1911, by C. B. Genung, who assisted in organizing the expedition, and was Townsend's lieutenant, which account follows :
"In June, 1871, I was farming in Peeples Val- ley, Arizona. Having occasion to go to Prescott and my wife not feeling safe at the ranch with the small force of men that I could leave behind, she concluded to go with me as far as Ed Bowers' ranch and station and visit with Mrs. Bowers until I returned. The Bowers family were our nearest neighbors at that time, and they were twelve miles away on the road to Prescott in Skull Valley. I took with me W. H. Smith, my wife's brother, and a young man named Boyce
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for escort. We all stayed at Bowers' ranch the first night, and the next morning as we were leav- ing, my wife called after me: 'Don't forget the indigo.' She had sent me for indigo before and I had forgotten it.
"I had told my wife that I would remain in Prescott but one day and return the third day. I had some business with the Quartermaster which took me to Whipple where Herbert Bow- ers was keeping the sutler store. I found Her- bert a very sick man, and, as he was a dear friend of mine, I spent a good deal of time with him, try- ing to cheer him up. He had a bad case of yellow jaundice, and was in bed all the time that I stayed with him.
"I got settled up with the Quartermaster and got my voucher for what he owed me, and was back in Prescott late in the evening and had everything ready to start home in the morning. At 9:30 I started from the Diana Saloon-across the plaza to where I slept. Right out on the plaza I came upon Herbert Bowers standing there like a statue. My first impression was that he was out of his head. I asked him what in the world he was doing there. He said, 'Charley, the In- dians killed one of the herders and have gone with a hundred and thirty-seven head of horses, mules and cattle from my Agua Fria ranch. The other herder escaped the Indians and brought the word to the ranch. Nathan, my brother, sent a courier in to me, also one to Camp Verde. I have applied at Whipple for help, but there are no men or ani- mals there to go; all I can get there is one old pack mule.'
"I said to him: 'You go to Brook & Lind's sta- ble and get all the saddle horses they have and
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have them brought down and tied here at the Diana Saloon, then go to C. C. Bean and tell him that I want his buckskin team-one for me and the other for Smith, my brother-in-law.'
"I walked into the saloon and told the people what had happened, and called for volunteers to go out and get the stock back. The Diana Saloon stood on the corner where the St. Michael Hotel now stands, and there were several more saloons right along side by side. The news spread like a flash and there were plenty of men to go but they had no horses. Just two men who were willing to go had horses, Tom Rodrick of Kirkland Valley, and Jeff Davis of Davis ranch on the head of the Hassayampa. I saw John McDerwin in the crowd and called him to one side and asked him if he would tell my wife the next day that I had gone after Indians and not to expect me back un- til she saw me, which he agreed to do. By this time the horses began to come to the hitching rack. I singled out the men that I wanted, and we all got some lunch of whatever kind we could scrape together, and at eleven o'clock-just an hour and a half from the time I left the saloon to go to bed-there were eleven of us mounted and ready to make the most successful raid against the Apaches that ever started from Northern Arizona.
"I had met John Townsend and been intro- duced the day that I stayed in Prescott, and as he was an Indian fighter I made inquiry for him before we got started and learned that he had started for his ranch on the lower Agua Fria, which was about twenty miles below Bowers' ranch; that he had gone via the Vickers ranch which was on the then only wagon road from
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Prescott to the Agua Fria. I wished to take the short trail, so sent two men via Vickers' ranch to ask Townsend to join us, which he did, and we were all at the Bowers ranch before daylight. As several of our horses needed shoeing, we got the negro blacksmith who was working for Bowers and had a good shop, to fit the shoes, while the men drove them on as fast as three hammers could do it.
"By sunrise we all had had breakfast, and had a sack of flour, some bacon and coffee that we had got at the ranch. Just as we were ready to start I called all to attention and suggested that we elect Townsend captain of the company, which was agreeable to us all. Then we were off, six- teen of us, having picked up four men besides Townsend in the Agua Fria settlement.
"What provisions and some cooking tools that we had were packed on the old Government mule.
"We travelled pretty fast after we got strung out on the trail of the stock until about noon, when we stopped to water and rest our horses. Tom Rodrick had been in town drinking pretty hard for several days and was very anxious to have a drink of whiskey, thinking perhaps some of the men had a bottle in their saddle bags. We all had saddle bags on our saddles those days. Tom called to Townsend and said, 'Captain, if I can't get a drink I'll die sure.' Townsend re- plied : "Oh ! not so bad as that, Tom.' Says Tom : 'I bet you two hundred dollars I'll die in fifteen minutes if I don't get a drink.' He lived, al- though he didn't get the drink.
"The first night we camped on a sidehill where there was good grass, and the next morning we were moving by daybreak, and about sunrise we
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ran into a soldier camp where they were just eat- ing their breakfast. The soldiers had started from Camp Verde and had a Mexican for guide who had been a prisoner with the Apaches for a number of years, and he knew about where to cross the mountains to strike the trail that he knew the Indians would have to take the stock over. So when he struck the trail they made camp, where we came upon them. There were twenty-eight enlisted men, a doctor, and a young lieutenant named Morton, in charge. The lieu- tenant was fresh from West Point, and as we rode along, Townsend being in the lead, the lieutenant asked one of our party who the leader was, and was told that Mr. Townsend, the man in the lead, was our captain. The lieutenant called to Town- send and walked out a little way toward him, as Townsend pulled his horse a little to one side and stopped. He said: 'Mr. Townsend, my name is Morton, and I suppose we are all out on the same business and I would like to accompany you.' 'All right,' said Townsend, 'come ahead,' and he rode on.
"We had a bad, slow trail all forenoon, climb- ing over a rough malapai country, and for long stretches the mescal was so thick that two horses could not pass on the trail. The mescal leaves were as sharp as needles and as hard as steel. It would ruin a horse if he happened to run against one.
"The soldiers soon came stringing along and overtook us about the time that we got to the top of what was known as Ox Yoke Mountain. There we found several ox yokes which had been taken off of oxen that had been run off in other raids by the Indians. The Mexican guide told us that
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it was twelve miles down the mountainside to the Verde river from that point.
"Here the Mexican guide said that the Indians were liable to fire the brush ahead of us; so we rushed our horses down the steep brushy trail as fast as we could, but we had not gone more than two or three miles before we saw the smoke ris- ing down the canyon below us. The trail led down the north side of a ridge which was cut with steep gulches, and as it was on the north side and the mountain was very steep the brush and grass did not burn very readily. Still nearly all of the soldiers were cut off by the fire and had to leave the trail and make their way around as best they could, everybody for himself.
"We reached the Verde river about two o'clock in the afternoon, horses and men all pretty tired and hungry, but all safe and sound. We crossed the river at the mouth of the east fork, and camped to let our horses rest and graze while we got something to eat ourselves. Here we scoured the country thoroughly to be sure that the In- dians had not divided their party, but satisfied ourselves that the whole lot of them had gone the one trail up the east fork. About four o'clock we started again on the trail, which led up the river for several miles, then turned up the face of a great table mountain which was one mass of lava boulders and the trail so steep that most of the men had to dismount. Townsend had told me about this place, having learned of it from some soldiers who had been there and had to turn back as the Indians had rolled boulders down from the top until the whole face of the mountain seemed to be flying rocks of all sizes. The moun- tain is several miles long, and from the top
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down for many hundred feet it is a perpen- dicular bluff, then slopes to the river below. The trail ran along under this bluff, and the Indians could stop an army from passing along that trail if they were to throw over even small sized boulders. Several parties before us had gone as far as the foot of this mesa where the trail started up, and then had given up the job and turned back. When we got to this point we all bunched up and some of the men started up the trail. Townsend let them go a little while and then called them back; told one of the soldiers to fire a shot to recall those that were out of hearing of his voice. When the men were all turned back we strung out single file, which was the way we travelled all the time, and before sun- down were back at the place we had left several hours before.
"Townsend said to the lieutenant, 'Have some of your men fire a shot or two at a mark.' Town- send wanted the shots fired, but did not want the citizens to waste their ammunition. He thought it did not make so much difference whether the soldiers had ammunition or not. When we over- took the soldiers that morning Townsend was mad, for up to that time the citizens and soldiers when they hunted Indians together never could get along agreeably. The officers had always wanted to boss the job, and made a failure of it every time. So far Lieutenant Morton had not made any suggestions at all, but had just come along, which was agreeable to Townsend and all the rest of us.
"We built up big camp fires, fired a few shots, put out a strong guard and made down our beds, which among the citizens consisted of saddle
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blankets and saddle for pillow. We knew the Indians were watching our every move from the high rough points which surrounded us on all sides. We got our suppers and still kept the fires burning bright, and all lay down to rest if not to sleep. The guard was changed every two hours, and at two o'clock the fires were all out, and as noiselessly as possible we mounted and retraced our steps to the foot of the big mountain which we reached just as the light began to show in the east. Noiselessly we began to climb up the face of that mountain, and by the time it was light enough to see to shoot, we were all over the worst of it ; but we had now several miles to travel along the face of the mountain directly under that great bluff which seemed to hang over in places. "It was very slow travelling until we got past this big black mesa, then we had rolling hills to cross with occasionally a pretty rough canyon. About six o'clock the Mexican guide, who was ahead, threw up a hand and we were all on the alert. There had just gone over the ridge about a mile ahead of us an Indian on a horse. We were then in sight of quite a large piece of com- paratively level land and could see cottonwood trees in the bottom along the East Fork, which at this place proved to be dry. Townsend and I jumped off our horses to tighten the cinches on our saddles, which let several of those that were in the line behind us go by, and they were going as fast as they could. Among the others that passed us was the lieutenant.
"When we had travelled about a quarter of a mile, Townsend ahead of me, he saw an Indian track in the dry dirt which bore off the main trail VIII-12
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to the right, and we followed it as fast as our horses and eyes would allow, and of course all who were behind us followed us. Across the flat that we had seen from a distance we all went as fast as our horses could carry us, and on the op- posite side of the river we ran into an Indian camp pretty well hidden in the brush. The Indians had most of them gotten out of their camp and were making for the hills through the thick brush, but we were shooting everyone we could see that was near enough to make it worth while trying our guns on.
"As we were crossing the dry river bed I noticed one Indian running apparently behind a hill, and I started for the top of the hill as fast as I could, and just as I reached the top I caught sight of a big fellow running down a gulch. I dropped him, and as he fell, I saw another in a bunch of oak brush about seventy-five yards away. I shot him, and he fell in the brush. Among the soldiers was a Corporal Flynn who had done duty for a long time between Camp Verde and Prescott as mail carrier, and Flynn saw the last Indian that I had shot when he fell, Flynn having followed me up the hill. Flynn said, 'you hit, but I think you only wounded him.'
"So I told Flynn if he would ride up on a little point of a hill that overlooked the place where the Indian fell so that he could see if he ran out, and at the same time cover my horse, which I left where we stood, that I would go into the brush and see what I had done to the red. Flynn sta- tioned himself where he could see all around, but could see nothing of the Indian, so I advanced cautiously into the brush and in a few minutes heard shots off to my right. I looked and there
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were seven or eight soldiers about two hundred yards away, and then I heard a bullet strike a rock close to me. Flynn began to yell like a crazy man, and said: 'What are you d-d boys doing? Trying to kill a white man?' The sol- diers had seen my black hat moving in the bushes and mistook me for an Indian, and had all taken a shot without dismounting. I found the Indian who had crawled into the thick brush; but he was a good Indian.
"We had spent so much time looking for the Indian that there was no use in doing anything but to go and find the balance of the people. We returned to the Indian camp, and were the last to get there.
"Morton, the trailer, some citizens and a few soldiers had struck a big trail while running on the main trail that we had been following. This trail crossed the main trail at right angles and led up a small ravine to another Indian camp, but much smaller than the one we had struck. The lieutenant had no rifle, but killed a big buck Apache with his forty-five-about the first one that was killed. Altogether we had killed thirty- five Indians that we knew were dead. We plun- dered the camp and about five o'clock took the trail and followed it until dark.
"After we had eaten something and were sit- ting around camp, Townsend asked the trailer what was the meaning of 'Wapop' in the Indian language. He said it meant 'Oh, Father!' Then Townsend told of shooting a young Indian about eighteen or twenty years old and breaking his leg. The fellow grabbed hold of a brush and pulled himself up, stood on one foot and slapped his breast and cried out: 'Wapop! Wapop!' two
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