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By the foregoing correspondence of General Carleton, it will be seen that the news of the discovery of placers in Apacheria created great excitement in New Mexico. Captain Pishon, with Bob Groom as pilot, following the old Beale Wagon Trail along the 35th parallel, made his way into the Valley, where he established a temporary camp. From there he discovered the Walker Party on Lynx Creek and other creeks around Prescott, and from the report which he gave to General Carleton, the great expectations which had been built up in Carleton's mind, seemed to be on the point of realization. It will be remembered that this was only about fifteen years after the discovery of the rich gold placers of California, and, at this date, 1863, mining was the business in California, Nevada and Utah. The rich discoveries of gold and silver in the two latter territories were published throughout the world. The Government, at that time, needed the precious metals to finance its military operations. The bonds of the Government, while the principal was payable in currency, bore interest which was payable in gold. This interest ranged from six to seven and a half per cent per annum, and at this time, which was just before the battle of Gettysburg, gold

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reached its high-water mark in New York, selling at about 280 premium, so everyone can sympathize with General Carleton when, from reports, he supposed that the gold fields of Arizona would equal, if not surpass, the placers of California.

Upon their return, Captain Pishon and General Clark, the Surveyor-General, after spending two weeks in the mines, reported them of extraordinary value. Men, they said, were making from ten to a hundred dollars a day with a rocker. In and around Weaver, fortunes had been picked up in large nuggets, and it was supposed that the placer fields had been only touched and were a great deal more extensive than they afterwards proved to be. In the meantime expeditions had been organized by private citizens to go to the new El Dorado. The first is that mentioned by Col. Banta:


“Much has been written about the ‘Captain Joe Walker’ party; its aims and objects, etc. One ‘authentic’ account says it was a prospecting expedition headed for the canyon of the Little Colorado river, where Walker had found gold in the early forties; all these stories are erroneous and far from the truth.

“Captain Joseph Walker was an honorable man, and a natural commander of man. Captain Sibley, of the Southern Confederacy, had undertaken the conquest of New Mexico, and the capture of Fort Union, the great depot of supplies of the U.S. Government. However, the defeat of the Sibley expedition at Apache Canyon, changed the aspect of affairs.

“Captain Joe Walker, with a few followers, started eastward from California, gathering

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new members en route, until he reached Colorado. He had no intention of going to Arizona when he left California; otherwise he would have gone south from California and entered Arizona either at La Paz or Yuma, and certainly would not have gone eastward through several states and territories if Arizona had been his objective point of destination. Captain Walker and all his followers—with one exception—were Southern sympathizers. The defeat of General Sibley at Apache Canyon was an unexpected event, which Walker had not thought possible, and Sibley's complete evacuation of New Mexico left that Territory in the hands of the Union troops. This changed the aspect of affairs, and the Walker party metamorphosed into a ‘prospecting party.’ At this time New Mexico was under martial law, and naturally all armed parties were viewed with suspicion, hence the ‘prospecting party.’ There was one man with the Walker party of Union sympathies, named A. C. Benedict, who informed General James H. Carleton, the Union Commander in Santa Fe, of the purpose of the Walker Expedition. Captain Walker, feeling that his movements were under military surveillance, decided to make a strategic movement and hoped by the ruse to deceive the U. S. military. Instead of going down the Rio Grande, he struck westward from Albuquerque over the old immigrant trail leading from that place to Los Angeles. Having reached Antelope Springs at the base of the San Francisco mountains, and the present site of Flagstaff, Walker knew he must be north of the Gila river, and a southward course would lead to that stream. From any point on the Gila

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his course would be eastward to Texas. But, reaching the Black Forest mountains, and discovering gold, which was merely an accidental incident, the Walker party were loath to leave the ‘real thing’ to go gallivanting after such an unsubstantial product as ‘empty glory.’ Before the party had pulled out of Albuquerque, Benedict had apprised Carleton of the westward movement.

“In the meantime the late Col. Bob Groom, following in the wake of the Walker party, was arrested and put in the guardhouse. Bob had a friend in Congress, Senator McDougal of California, to whom he wrote to get him out of ‘hock.’ The Senator called upon Secretary Stanton, who informed him that his friend Groom must take the oath of allegiance to the U. S. Government, or remain under guard until the close of the war. There was no alternative,—Bob took the oath. After his release from the guardhouse General Carleton sent for Bob, and asked him if he desired to join the Walker party in Arizona; that he was about to send out a scouting party to look up the party, and if he so desired he (Bob) could go along as guide to Capt. Pishon, who would command the scouting party. Bob accepted the proposition and joined the Pishon expedition in search of the Walker party. Pishon's orders were to follow the trail of Walker, and if the party were permanently located, as rumor had it, to select a site for a military post as near the Walker party as practicable. The trail was followed to Chino Valley, but here it had become obliterated. However, Pishon came up to what is now known as Granite Greek, where he made camp about four o'clock in the afternoon

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beneath some large pine trees; about where the courthouse at Prescott now stands. Shortly after making camp, a shot was heard up the creek and Bob went up to investigate, hoping to find the Walker party. About a mile above Bob met old Pauline Weaver, and, to inquiries, was told by Weaver: ‘I was up the side of this mountain yesterday, and saw a smoke over there’ pointing southeastward, ‘and it was not an Apache smoke; perhaps your people are over there, I don't know.’ Bob returned to camp and the next day they went ‘over there’ and found the Walker party. Pishon selected a site for a military post near the mouth of Walker's Gulch, about where Col. King S. Woolsey built the first house, now known as ‘Bower's ranch.’ This done, Capt. Pishon returned to Santa Fe, and Groom remained with the Walker Party.

“It may be of general interest to know how I became aware of these ‘inside facts.’ I was at Albuquerque at the time; the country was under martial law; Lieut. Johnson was Provost Marshal; H. S. Johnson published the Rio Abajo Press; he was on the ‘inside’ in matters military and I worked in the office, so I, too, was on the ‘inside.’ Nuff sed.

“In the summer of 1864, Captain Joe Walker, still having the Southern cause in mind, a plot was hatched in Prescott and Walker's Gulch to capture Fort Whipple and the Capitol, and then organize the Territory as a dependency of the Southern Confederacy. In the event of success, General Coulter—one of the Walker Party—was to be made provisional Governor, and Captain Walker, Adjutant-General. Of course, Benedict was on, and gave it away to the commanding

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officer at Whipple, and the ‘plot’ was nipped in the bud. Benedict immediately left for Tucson, and soon afterwards took up a ranch on the Sonoita. One day, while plowing with a rifle strapped on his plowhandles, he was attacked by Apaches. Securing his rifle, and from the shallow breastwork of the furrow, though desperately wounded, he put up so hard a fight that the Apaches finally left him. He survived for a time, though he never fully recovered, and finally died from his wounds


“In regard to Captain Pauline Weaver: Very little was known about Captain Weaver. He had lived with the Yumas, Apache-Yumas, Mohaves, Apache-Mohaves and other tribes of Apaches since 1841. He was very uncommunicative and stoical; more Indian than white. I first met Weaver in 1864, at which time he was along in years. He soon after became a pensioner of the military and at Camp Verde was taken down sick, but strenuously opposed going into the hospital, declaring he could not live or breathe in a house. Before he took sick Weaver lived in a camp north of the post, perhaps a half mile or more away, and when found sick the commanding officer ordered a party of soldiers to take a tent and erect it over the sick man. Even this was objected to by the old man, but he was too sick to do more than object. Here he died and was buried by the military; and thus ended the career of this peculiar and mysterious character. It was generally believed that Weaver had been an officer in the army at one time, but nothing of a certainty was ever known.”


The Walker expedition was followed in rapid succession by others. General Carleton as before

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stated sent an expedition to Arizona to take possession of the country and to establish a military post in the neighborhood of the Walker party. Of this expedition, Mr. Banta says:


“This military expedition comprised sixty bull teams, six mule teams and three ambulances. The wagons were loaded at Fort Union with commissary and quartermaster supplies, the outfit pulled out of Union on October 5th, 1863, with orders to rendezvous at Old Fort Wingate. The real start was made from Fort Wingate, and the expedition as a whole was composed of two companies of California Volunteers—‘F’ and ‘C,’ First Regiment,—also Capt. Pishon and a part of his company. The officers were Major Willis, Captains Benson and Hargrave, Lieuts. Nelson and Pomeroy. Dr. Lieb and wife also accompanied the expedition. I had joined the expedition at Albuquerque in the humble capacity of bullwhacker. We reached Chino Valley and established Fort Whipple there on the 21st day of December, 1863. Soon after Governor John N. Goodwin and party arrived at the post and established the temporary capital of the Territory at Whipple. Secretary R. C. McCormick had brought out a small printing outfit and started the “Arizona Miner,” a monthly publication. T. E. Hand came out to run the thing. I helped to get out the first issues of the paper.

“Some time in April (1864), Governor Goodwin selected the town site, which was surveyed by Col. Bob Groom and Van C. Smith, and afterwards named Prescott. Previous to this the placer miners on Granite Creek had become ‘public spirited,’ took a day off, held a meeting,

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and dubbed their camp ‘Goodwin,’ in honor of the Governor. The ‘Goodwinites’ endeavored to persuade the Governor to locate his capital in their ‘city,’ but he decided in favor of the site where Prescott now stands. After the survey the Governor's outfit moved up to the new townsite. Fort Whipple was moved up, and the old camp at Chino Valley was renamed ‘Camp Clark,’ in honor of Surveyor-General Clark of New Mexico. Before the selection of the townsite, the miners camped on some high ground north of Sam Miller's ranch; of course, there was no ranch there at that time. In this camp was Charley Mason, Sugar-Foot Jack, myself, and many more. Sugar-Foot was an English convict from Van Diemen's Land. He had escaped and made his way to California where he enlisted in the California Volunteers, but was discharged for thievery. Jack came out as a bullwhacker. The rascal was as brave as a lion, even if he was a notorious thief. On one occasion, George Goodhue, from Lexington, Mo., and three other fellows from Colorado, were over towards Granite Mountain on a prospecting trip, and, on their return to Prescott, were attacked by Apaches, and at the first fire Goodhue fell dead and the three Colorado fellows fled. Jack made a fight alone, and with his two six-shooters he whipped the Indians. Our brave (?) boys from Colorado reached Prescott, and reported they had a hard fight with the redskins and that Goodhue and Sugar-Foot were killed. In five minutes, a party was on the way to the scene of the fight, where they found Jack smoking his pipe by the dead body of George.

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“Loren Jenks had the first hay contract for Whipple after its removal to its present site. ‘Poker’ Johnson took a sub-contract and established a hay camp below the ‘rocks.’ At this time I was employed by ‘Poker,’ (after I herded stock for R. E. Farrington all winter at $7.50 per month), to scout about the camp and look out for Apaches, at $75.00 per month. The hay was cut with hoes, and at that sort of work the men could not keep an eye out for reds. The late John H. Behan—my partner and chum—was here cutting hay, also a Mr. Giles and others, besides a number of Mexicans. This was in, July, 1864, and while in this camp, the first election was held and Giles was elected to the First Legislative Assembly. I, of course, did not vote, as I was not of legal age, but east my first vote in 1866.

“One Sunday a hay-cutter named Henson was out not far from the camp, perhaps a quarter of mile, where he was jumped by Apaches, and killed one with his pistol. The shot was heard in camp, and when he came in, the boys asked what he had shot at. He said, ‘I shot an Apache; he fell, and I think I killed him.’ A few days afterwards I was over the same ground and, seeing some buzzards flying around there, I made an examination and found the dead Indian. Speaking of Apaches, when I was herding for Farrington, sometimes I carried an old Dragoon holster pistol, loaded to the muzzle with powder and ball. This I carried in my hand, muzzle down. One day I got sight of three Apaches, making off with three burros. I started for them, and they turned up a canyon. To head them off, I cut across the small mountain. When I reached the top, the Apaches had left the burros in the canyon

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and were hiking for Granite mountain. The funny part about this thing was that a day or two afterwards I was in the ‘rocks’ and met a mountain lion. The brute was not more than twenty feet away with his head towards me, waving his tail back and forth. To make a sure shot, I knelt down to rest the pistol on my knee. I pulled the trigger and the pesky thing snapped. I examined it, and found no load in it. I had been hunting Indians and mountain lions with an empty gun. Many times I lit my pipe at Indian fires while herding the stock. Back of our camp was a small volcanic butte. At night the Apaches would go there and look down upon our camp. I saw their tracks there on several occasions, and made up my mind that I would do some night work too. One night, without saying a word to anyone of my intentions, I took my rifle, an old muzzle-loading squirrel gun, and went up to the top of the butte. In due time the Apaches came. There was no moon, and I had to shoot at random, and those reds were badly frightened, if no more.

“After the hay was ‘dug’ Charley Beach had the Contract to haul it to Whipple. The bullwhackers were Berry Dodson, Dave and Sam Smiley, Charley Washburn, John H. Behan, Dan White, and C. A. Franklin. In the summer of 1864, Jim Fine and Ely Pulteney located and built a little rock cabin above the ‘rocks.’ After we had finished hauling the hay, Beach had the teams taken to the Fine-Pulteney cabin. A corral of cottonwood poles was built about the cabin. The bars of the corral were stuck through holes in the cabin near the corner next to the door, and at night a log chain was wound around

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these bars close up to the cabin. Sleeping in the cabin that night were Beach, Fine, Pulteney, Henson, Behan and the writer. The cabin was about 8X10, with no window and only a blanket for the door. Some time in the night the little dog began barking. This awakened Henson and myself. Henson got up and, raising the blanket looked out. At this moment the pup gave a sharp yelp, and all was quiet. I asked Henson what was up, and he said, ‘A coyote, perhaps,’ and, hearing nothing more, he lay down and we again went to sleep. The next morning we found the log chain unwound, the bars down, and every hoof of the cattle gone. The little dog was lying dead with an arrow through its body not more than fifty feet from the door of the cabin.

“Up at ‘Gimletville,’ the name derisively given to Goodwin by the Prescottites, were two restaurants. One was kept by the ‘Virgin Mary’ and the other by a man named Jackson. The ‘Virgin Mary’ had come up from Tucson with ‘Nigger’ Brown, and had brought a dozen or two goats with her. Both restaurants had drawing cards. The ‘Virgin Maryrsquo; pull was goat's milk for coffee, and Jackson's was his sixteen-year old stepdaughter. As between the two ‘cards’ I think the goat's milk had the stronger pull.

“In those early days greenbacks were at a discount. The gold standard prevailed. Bacon was a dollar and a half a pound in gold, or three dollars in paper money, and the same price for coffee and sugar. A pair of the most ordinary boots cost $25 in gold. At this rate I bought no boots but made moccasins. The winter of 1864-65 found me in Prescott. John P. Burke

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and a man named Hollister were running the Prescott House on Granite Street. Here I was a general factotum about the place. That winter the first mail came in from La Paz, brought in by a Mr. Grant who left the same at the ‘hotel.’ I put the few letters behind the bar, and gave them out to anyone calling for them. Hence I handled the first mail entering Prescott. Afterwards, by common consent, it was turned over to ‘Parson’ Williams.

“The most dangerous man in Prescott at this time was A. G. Dunn. He had killed a man in Oregon and was sent to the pen, but through influential friends had secured his release and come to Arizona. In town were two ‘Sols,’ Little Sol, and Black Sol, and Dunn had some words over a Mexican woman with Black Sol, and Dunn threatened to kill Black Sol. Dunn never carried a pistol, but did carry a small Ballard rifle at all times. The little Jew armed himself with two big six-shooters and, being rather diminutive in stature, the muzzles of the two pistols whacked against the calves of his legs to the amusement of everybody. One evening ‘the woman in the case’ was at the cabin of McMahan, who had a Mexican wife. Mac was an assayer. Black Sol also put in there, too, and pretty soon someone in the house saw Dunn approaching. The Jew was frightened and crawled under the bed. Dunn had no idea that the Jew was there and entered the room, put his gun in a corner, and sat down on a chair leaning back against the bed. McMahan, fearing trouble should Dunn discover the presence of the Jew, came up to the hotel after the sheriff. Burke was under-sheriff and, with a pocket derringer, returned with McMahan

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to the cabin. He walked close up to Dunn, shooting Dunn through the left shoulder. Dunn jumped to his feet and made for his gun. Burke fled out the door and as he ran Dunn fired and shot the stock off the pistol in Burke's right hand, the ball passing through Burke's thumb. It happened that Dunn had no more cartridges and, after firing at Burke, he set his gun down against the wall of the cabin on the oustide and stood there with his back against the house. In the meantime Burke had gone to the hotel and reported matters to the sheriff, Jerome B. Calkins. The sheriff, accompanied by Charley Ott, went to the McMahan cabin, both armed with sixshooters. Dunn saw them approaching but made no move, nor did he say a word. At the proper shooting distance Calkins turned loose with his gun; he shot the second time, and again the third time. Still Dunn made no move nor opened his mouth. The sheriff then went up to him, supposing that he had missed the fellow all the time, and placed him under arrest. Coming to the hotel Dunn practically gave way from loss of blood, and then it was that the sheriff knew that he had hit Dunn. The wounded man was brought into the hotel and laid upon the floor. Dr. John T. Alsap did something for the man, but advised sending for Dr. Coues at the fort, Coues came up and plugged up Dunn as best he could, but thought the man had no chance to live. Dunn said: ‘Doctor, are you through?’ and then called for the drinks, saying, ‘I'll live to get even with those fellows.’ And, strange to say, he did. I sat up with Dunn that night looking all the time for him to die. Dr. Coues came up the following morning, and to his surprise, found the

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man alive. He said to Dunn: ‘You have great vitality and have a chance to recover.’ To this Dunn smiled and said, ‘Of course I will,’ and he did recover.

“Along in the spring of 1865, Major Staples, a paymaster in the army, paid off the troops at Whipple, and with an escort of California Volunteers, started back to his headquarters at Santa Fe. Several parties took advantage of the escort to return to New Mexico. Among those going back were C. W. Beach, George Cooler, Burke and myself, and, perhaps, a few others. We followed our old military trail via Chino Valley, Hell Canyon, Rattlesnake Tank, Bear Springs, Volunteer Springs, Antelope Springs, the present site of Flagstaff—Coconino Tanks, Walnut Tanks, the Little Colorado at the mouth of the Canyon Diablo, and so on. It was some time in the month of April, 1865, this trip was made. We had six mute wagons for baggage and grub; the escort were cavalrymen, and the Major rode a horse.

“Before we had reached the Coconino caves, I pushed on ahead of the outfit as I wanted to take a look at them. Reaching the caves I saw smoke coming out of the volcanic rocks over a considerable extent of ground. I entered one of the caves and, finding a hole leading further back in to the mountain, I crawled in on my hands and knees, and seeing a reflected light ahead, I crawled towards it. By this time the opening was so small that I was forced to lie flat in order to get in. Finally I had gone as far as was possible and here saw that the light came up through a fissure about two feet wide. Looking down into the fissure I could see about sixty

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feet but could not see from whence came the light as at that depth there was a bench or setoff and the fire was still further below and out of sight. To get back again I was obliged to use my toes to pull myself, and my hands to push. Coming out I saw the party approaching and spoke to the Major of what I had seen and asked if he did not want to investigate. Seeing the smoke coming out of the rocks—not very much—he replied, ‘No, we are near enough h—l now.’

“Without further incident we reached (old) Fort Wingate sometime in May, where we first heard of the assassination of President Lincoln. In due time we reached Albuquerque, where I remained for a time.”


The foregoing statement made by A. F. Banta gives a description of the second expedition under Major Willis and also an outline of the general conditions in the mountain camps around Prescott at the time of his arrival with the second expedition, and some of his subsequent experiences.

It does not appear in General Carleton's letters, or elsewhere, that there was any suspicion that the Walker party were Confederates, for had their loyalty been suspected, they would all have been arrested in New Mexico and compelled to take the oath of allegiance, so it is probable that this portion of Mr. Banta's statement was founded upon camp rumors.

D. E. Conner says the Walker party was about equally divided in sympathy between the North and South.

The two companies of California Volunteers sent out by General Carleton were expected to

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meet Governor Goodwin's party at Los Tinos, from whence they would proceed to the new diggings. These companies waited for some time, and then received orders to go ahead and did so, arriving at Chino Valley a few weeks before the Governor's party, where they established Fort Whipple.

In an interview Fred G. Hughes, a well-known pioneer and old resident of Arizona, who subsequently held many positions, gave the following account of the trip of these troops to the new gold fields:


“The fall of 1863 found the California column, after its weary trip from California to the Rio Grande, scattered through Arizona and New Mexico, in full and undisputed possession of both territories so far as the southern Confederacy was concerned. The summer had passed principally in operations against the Apaches and Navajo Indians. The latter tribe was wealthy and possessed large herds of sheep and other stock; they were quickly whipped, and at the time at which this narrative commences, had succumbed, and were coming in and giving themselves up as prisoners of war, and were being sent to the Bosque Redondo reservation in New Mexico.

“During the summer a party of hardy prospectors and mountaineers from Colorado and California, under the lead of a noted trapper, named Captain Joe Walker, had pushed forward into the country around where the city of Prescott now stands, and had discovered rich gold placers. This new discovery had created excitement, and all that prevented a general stampede thereto was the difficulty of getting

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there, there being three or four hundred miles of travel through the hostile Indian country to reach that locality.

“It was during the early part of this year that Congress had passed the act organizing the territory of Arizona and at the time of which I write the territorial officials had been appointed and were on their way out from Washington to their posts of duty. Governor John N. Goodwin the head of the delegation, had decided to locate the capital of the new territory, in the vicinity of the new gold discovery made by the Walker party. General Carleton, who was then in command of the department, also decided to locate a fort there, ostensibly to protect the miners against the Indians, but in reality to guard against organization in our rear, for it was known that most of the people going to the new discovery were sympathizers with the Confederacy. The company to which I then belonged was located at Fort Craig, on the Rio Grande, better known then as Val Verde, and we were detailed by General Carleton as one of two companies to proceed to the new discovery and locate the fort. We were first to proceed to Los Tinos on the Rio Grande, where we were to meet the new territorial officials and escort them through the Indian country to their destination. We reached Los Tinos in the middle of October, but the officials had not arrived, and after waiting for them about ten days, and they failing to appear, we were ordered to proceed to old Fort Wingate and await their arrival there. We proceeded to Wingate, and remained there a week or ten days and they not appearing,

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and it growing late in the season, we were ordered to push on without them.

“Our expedition left Wingate on the 17th day of November (1863). It consisted of Companies ‘C’ and ‘F’ of the First California Volunteers, and some forty or fifty wagons, four-fifths of which were ox-teams. The winter proved to be exceedingly cold and stormy, and by the time we reached the Little Colorado, our oxen began to peg out. We had as yet had very little trouble with the Indians. At Inscription Rock they had stolen some horses from a party of citizens who were accompanying us, and who had ventured too far from the command, and struck a party of Navajoes under a chief named Nannelity, who had as yet refused to submit and come in off the warpath. By the time we reached the base of the San Francisco mountains our cattle were giving out and dying to such an extent that it became necessary to either destroy part of our stores, or cache them until the command could go on to its destination. The latter course was determined upon, and I was detailed to remain behind with ten men and guard the cache until they could return and relieve us. It was nearly a month before they returned. In the interim we enjoyed ourselves hunting to our hearts' content, for our camp was a veritable hunters' paradise. It was at a point then called Snider's Water Hole. Bear, elk, deer, antelope and furkey abounded in greater numbers than I have ever seen, either before or since. While hunting we would see Indians almost daily and being as we now were in Tonto or Hualapai Apache country, we knew them to be Apaches, and really

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expected each day that our camp would be attacked. As we were in a new country, however, we concluded not to be the aggressors, at least not without cause. Two days before the party arrived to relieve us, an Indian appeared before our camp, and made signs that he wanted to come in. We brought him in, and he proved to be a Hualapai Apache. He stayed with us all day. We treated him well, and he left in the evening for his camp, apparently pleased with his visit. The next day two Indians came in, and that evening the relief party arrived. A Lieutenant Pomeroy was in command of the relief party and he had brought out all the mule teams of the command to relieve us. I related to him the circumstances of the Indians visiting our camp, and he told me they had passed a camp of two or three hundred Hualapais at a point called Rattlesnake Canyon two or three days out from Camp Clark, ‘the new location for the fort,’ and that the Indians were inclined to be peaceable. However, that night the herd was stampeded, every hoof taken, and one of our herders shot. The herder was shot with a Navajo arrow, and a couple of Navajo arrows were also picked up the next day on the ground from where the herd was taken. The morning after the stampede I arose early and taking the trail of our herd, followed it some six or eight miles, when I discovered some mules grazing in the timber about a mile ahead of me. The trail had thus far led in the direction of the Volunteer Springs, and toward the Navajo country. Being alone I did not feel like investigating the mules I had discovered too closely, feeling that if the Indians had halted so close to our camp

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they were numerous enough to make it too interesting for me should I be discovered. So I returned to camp. I found upon my return that Lieutenant Pomeroy and his party had started back to Camp Clark with the intention of bringing out the ox-teams to relieve us.

“The next day we were surprised to have a train of four wagons pull into our camp, coming from the direction of the Rio Grande. They proved to be a party of Americans and Mexicans from Santa Fe and Albuquerque, en route to the new gold diggings. They had followed our trail out from the Rio Grande. They had laid over the day before to rest at some springs about ten miles from our camp, and it was without a doubt their mules I had seen the day previous. Jack Collins, a noted crack stage driver, who was afterwards killed by Apaches, near where the town of Pantano now stands, was at the head of the American party with this train. They had heard nothing of the Arizona officials before they left the river.

“It was about three weeks before the second party got back to relieve us, and in the meantime no Indians had visited our camp, nor had we seen any while hunting. The new relief party was commanded by Lieutenant Griff Taylor, afterwards a noted Prescottite. Taylor came with orders to relieve us, and on his return to attack the Hualapai camp at Rattlesnake Canyon. Evidently it was the impression that these Indians were the ones that stampeded our herd.

“I related to Taylor the circumstances of our herder being shot with, a Navajo arrow, also the fact that the trail of our stolen herd led in the direction of the Navajo country, and that

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there was every reason to believe that it was Navajoes and not Hualapais that had taken our herd. Under the circumstances, Taylor thought it would be unwise to attack the Hualapai rancheria, and decided, instead, if these Indians were still friendly when we passed there, to have them go into Camp Clark and make some kind of a treaty with them. Upon our reaching Rattlesnake Canyon, we found a rancheria of some two or three hundred Indians—men, women and children. They appeared peaceable and readily agreed to go into Camp Clark and make a treaty with us. So we proceeded on our journey without molesting them. Two or three days after our arrival at Camp Clark these Indians all came in, and Colonel Willis, the commanding officer, made a kind of a treaty with them. He told them to go back to their homes, and if they behaved themselves for a year our Government would likely make them some presents. We killed for them two or three of our old work oxen and the Indians started home apparently happy.

“I learned in the meantime that when we left our camp at Snider's Water Hole, one of the relief party had posted a notice on the pine trees there notifying parties to look out for Indians at that particular place. The notice was particularly addressed to the expected territorial officials. I notified Col. Willis of this fact, and of the trouble likely to ensue, should these officials, whom we expected daily, first find this notice and then encounter these Indians. He said he would send out a party to either meet the territorial party or take down the notice. Col. Willis was probably a little dilatory about this matter, and unfortunately the Arizona officials

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had reached the territory. They came accompanied by Col. Frank Chaves, with a company each of the New Mexican volunteers, and the Eleventh Missouri Cavalry, as escort. They found the notice posted at our old camp, and coming on had reached the rancheria at Rattlesnake Canyon just as the Indians were arriving from our peace conference. The result was they attacked the Indians, and killed about twenty of them. Of course this ended our peace with the Hualapais. The Indians, believing they had been treacherously dealt with, now commenced killing whenever a white man could be found, and many an old Hassayamper was made to fill a lonely grave as the result of that mistake. I afterwards learned that some of the mules drifted into the Navajo reservation at Bosque Redondo, showing, beyond a doubt, that it was Navajoes that had stolen them. In this instance, were the Hualapais wholly at fault for sounding the tocsin of war?

“This camp Clark, of which I speak in this letter, was the first capital of Arizona Territory. It was located at the point now known as Little Chino Valley, and remained there for three or four months before it was moved to Prescott. The ‘Arizona Miner’ was first published at this camp. The press had been brought out by R. C. McCormick, then secretary of the Territory and afterwards governor, and delegate to Congress. The ‘Miner,’ however, was edited by a man named Hand, the first numbers being printed on colored mapping paper. It was about a 12×20 single sheet and devoted principally to furthering the political ambitions of Secretary McCormick.”



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