CHAPTER XVI.THE WICKENBURG MASSACRE (Continued).


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General Crook Takes Up Hunt for Murderers —Investigation Stopped by Peace Commission—Investigation by General Crook Resumed—Meeting With Indians at Camp Date Creek—Selection of Murderers by Mohave Indians—Attempted Arrest Brings on Fight—C. B. Genung's Account of Happening—Captain John G. Bourke's Account of Attempt on General Crook's Life—Death and Burial of Captain Philip Dwyer—Fight With Indians.

William Gilson, at that time a prominent citizen of Date Creek, and afterwards one of the early settlers of the Salt River Valley, during the latter part of January, 1872, informed General Crook that he believed the Date Creek Indians committed the Wickenburg Massacre. Mr. Gilson was friendly to these Indians, and this opinion was given only upon well grounded suspicions. General Crook took the matter in hand, determined to ferret out the murderers, arrest them, and turn them over to the civil authorities for trial. He set spies, both Indians and whites, at work to hunt up the testimony, plenty of which was soon after forthcoming, and what was at first a mystery, was soon cleared up by a strong chain of evidence. First came an Apache-Mohave Indian boy, who had been raised by Dan O'Leary, the well-known


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scout, whom the robbers and murderers had sent for that he might tell them the denominations of the greenbacks which they had secured at the time of the massacre. Some of these greenbacks had been left by the Indians, they not knowing their value. Next came Irataba, chief of the Mohave Indians, and one or two of his captains, and several of his warriors, who testified that the murderers, after going to Date Creek, went upon the Colorado River Indian Reservation, and boasted of the deed they had done, spent their stolen greenbacks and displayed other plunder. These actions were brought to the notice of other white men besides General Crook, among whom were Dr. Tonner, then Indian Agent at the Colorado River Reservation, who assisted in procuring these facts. Wallapai Indians also substantiated the accounts given by Irataba and his friends. The murderers repeatedly stated that fifteen of their number had made the attack, while fifteen more were within hailing distance ready to give aid; that they had taken very little clothing, trinkets, or articles of that nature, for fear that their possession might some day lead to their detection.

Continuing, J. M. Barney says: “In March of 1872, General Crook, accompanied by Lieutenants Bourke and Ross, started from Fort Whipple, along the Mohave road, towards the Colorado River. He reached Beale Springs where he succeeded in getting some Wallapai Indians to agree to go out and help him persuade the Apache-Mohaves to come into Camp Date Creek, where they were to be fed and taken care of by the Government. This was merely a


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ruse upon the part of General Crook whose main object was to get hold of the robbers and murderers belonging to that tribe, and, knowing that the two tribes—the Apache-Mohaves and Wallapais—were more or less friendly, realized at once that it would not do to trust the latter with the real secret of the expedition. General Crook, with his two lieutenants and Wallapai Indian allies, trudged on foot through snow and slush towards a rendezvous, where, by previous arrangement, two companies of cavalry were to go under the guidance of Dan O'Leary and some Wallapai scouts for the purpose of taking in hand the murderous Apache-Mohaves. Just at this time an express came to General Crook with orders to cease hostilities and to let the Indians and ‘Peace Commissioners’—who were about to arrive in Arizona—settle the question. General Crook obeyed the orders and returned to Fort Whipple. Later on in that same year—about the month of August—having been granted authority to chastise bad Indians, General Crook, with Lieutenant Ross, Henry Hewitt, and a few other persons, soon after started for Camp Date Creek to carry out his old object of arresting the murderers who had taken part in the Wickenburg Massacre. Before leaving his headquarters the General had sent couriers to the Apache-Mohaves and Apache-Yumas, asking them to meet him in conference at Date Creek, which they agreed to do.

‘‘

“The General and his party reached the post on the 7th of September, but found that no Indians had yet come in to meet him, as had been


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promised. The following day, however, some fifty Indians, led by their Chief, Ochocama, made their appearance, armed and painted, and apparently ready for war. In the meantime Dr. Herman Bendell, Superintendent of Indian Affairs for Arizona, and Col. James M. Barney, of Ehrenberg and Yuma, had arrived from the Colorado River; Captain Byrne, D. H. Smith, Irataba, the Mohave chieftain, Irataba's son, and another Mohave Indian, had come in from Camp Beale Springs; while Charley B. Genung, William Gilson, and other citizens from the neighboring valleys were also present. It was then arranged by General Crook that the Mohaves should be kept out of sight of the Apache-Mohaves until everything should be ready for arresting the murderers. The time for the council came and the parties to the conference assembled on the parade ground adjacent to the post. Three or four of the stage robbers were present among the crowd of Indians, while one, known as ‘Chimihueva Jim’—a very bad Indian, who spoke English quite well—could not be induced under any circumstances to come to the post, but remained in the nearby mountains. General Crook, together with the other citizens mentioned above, as well as Lieutenant Volkmar, who commanded the post, were seated on benches opposite Chief Ochocama and his braves, when Chief Irataba and his Mohave followers made their appearance and shook hands with their red brethren. There being but about fifty Apache-Mohaves present, General Crook asked for information regarding the five or six hundred Apache-Mohaves and Apache-Yumas,

COL. JAMES M. BARNEY.


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who, a short time previously, had drawn rations at the post. He could gain but little knowledge about this matter from Chief Ochocama, whose brother was, at the time, a prisoner in the guardhouse for having attempted to smuggle arms from the post, and for having disobeyed an order of Dr. Williams then Indian agent at Date Creek.

“It had previously been understood by the white citizens and Mohaves that one of the latter was to hand to each one of the murderers of the stage passengers, a piece of tobacco. One of the Mohaves immediately proceeded to carry out this part of the program, offering the first piece to the chief, Ochocama, who hung his head and did not let on that he understood what the Mohave meant. He was finally persuaded to take hold of the tobacco, while his countenance rapidly changed from one blue color to another, his discomfiture ending by dropping his piece of tobacco to the ground as soon as he could. Another and another Indian was given his piece of tobacco, and the last murderer had just clutched his when, agreeably to previous understanding, a soldier attempted to arrest him. Quick as thought, another savage stabbed the soldier with a knife. The soldier pulled his pistol and shot. General Crook rushed in and tried to stop the fracas, but it was too late, as the Indians and soldiers were cross-firing upon one another. Three soldiers caught hold of the chief, Ochocama, who would have gotten away from all three had it not been for Dan O'Leary who, winding his fingers in the chief's long hair, threw and secured him, whence he was led to the


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guardhouse. During the disturbance Ochocama's brother who, as has been stated, was a prisoner in the guardhouse, made two attempts to escape through the roof and was shot by a guard. Lieutenant Ross, observing an Indian taking a deadly aim at General Crook, pushed that officer out of range of the gun just in time, the bullet that was intended for him hitting and killing an Indian. Most of the Indians ran away when the firing commenced, but the chief and those who had to remain fought like demons. The bloody ending of this gathering, although regrettable, was inevitable, as the Indians would have resisted arrest under any circumstances. Ochocama, the chief, did not much relish his incarceration in the guardhouse, and finally made his escape through the roof, when he was shot at twice, pierced with a bayonet once but eventually succeeded in getting away to the hills, where, according to the story of some Apache-Yumas, who later came into Mr. Gilson's place, he died of his wounds. This chief was one of the worst Indians infesting the Territory at that time, and, according to his own confession, had murdered Mr. Leihy and Mr. Evarts in Bell's Canyon, on November 10th, 1866, for no other reason than that he had been told that Mr. Leihy had stolen some goods intended for his tribe. Mr. Leihy was Superintendent of Indian Affairs at the time, having succeeded Charles D. Poston in that position, and Mr. Evarts was his clerk. His murderers tried to lay the blame of the crime on the Pimas, just as they afterwards endeavored to make the Tonto Apaches shoulder all their other evil deeds. This treacherous


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chief and his brother had also murdered a man by the name of Taylor on the Colorado River, in August of 1869.

“After the row Mr. Gilson went back to his ranch and stayed there alone, while Mr. Genung, having Indians working for him on the road over the Antelope Mountains, was furnished with a small escort of soldiers, went home, and told his Indians what had taken place. Upon receiving this information they all left.

“Some seven Apache-Mohaves, including the chief, Ochocama, who died of his wounds, and his brother, were killed in this fight, while no doubt many others were wounded. Many more would have been killed but for the earnest efforts of General Crook and Dr. Bendell to put a stop to the firing. The soldier who was stabbed by the savage who commenced the trouble had been severely wounded and soon after passed away.”

’’

Mr. Genung's account of the attempt of General Crook to capture or kill these Indians who were supposed to be the murderers, follows:

‘‘

“In July, 1871, I concluded to build a wagon road from Wickenburg, via Antelope Creek and Peeples Valley to connect with the road leading from the Colorado River at Ehrenberg to Prescott. There was a road that could be travelled by light rigs and empty teams but no load could be handled over it. My neighbors agreed to help me, as Wickenburg and Phoenix were our best markets and to haul a load to either of these places we had to travel about sixty miles, whereas it was only twenty-seven miles by the road that I proposed to build from Peeples Valley


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to Wickenburg which was on the Phoenix road. I employed a few white men at $75.00 per month, a few Mexicans at $65.00 and board, and started to work. There was quite a number of Yavapai Indians in and around Peeples Valley at the time, and when they learned what I was doing they asked for work; and, as they were willing to work for fifty cents per day, the same as I had paid them when they worked for me on the Colorado River Reservation, I put a lot of them to work. My neighbors did not approve of my working Indians, but, as the Indians would do about as much work with pick and shovel as the average white man or Mexican, I put them on; gave them flour, beans, sugar, and coffee and venison. I gave one of the Indians fifty cents per day and furnished him with cartridges, and he kept the camps well supplied with fresh meat and his squaw dressed the skins, which made it a good job for the hunter. I thought it better to work the Indians and have them where I could watch them, than to be uncertain of their whereabouts. Then again, the white man had occupied their lands and hunting grounds, crowded them back so that they were too glad to go onto the reservation. Then after they were all on the reservation the agent starved them until they had to go back to the mountains to get something to eat.

“I built the road from Wickenburg to Kirkland Valley for $4765, and without the Indian labor I could not have built it for less than seven or eight thousand dollars.

“When I started work on the road a man named George H. Wilson, commonly called


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Yackey Wilson, moved from his ranch three and a half miles below Wickenburg up to Antelope Creek and put up a seven room house and started a station. Wilson was a good station keeper and did a good business with the placer miners as well as with the travel that came that way as soon as the road was possible for teams. While I was working on the road I received one day a letter from General Crook who had been at Fort Whipple but a short time; he having arrived in the Territory in June of the same year. In the letter Crook asked me if I could go with some of the headmen of the Yavapais and see him at Whipple. I wrote to Crook that I would try to locate some of the captains and go with them as soon as I could. Crook did not tell me in his letter what he wanted, but from the talk that I had with the three soldiers that brought me the letter, I inferred that he wanted to enlist some of the Yavapais to help fight the Hualapais and Tonto Apaches. I sent an Indian to Camp Date Creek to talk with some of the Indians which I supposed were there, but my Indian returned that night and told me that nearly all the Indians had gone out into the mountains and only came into the post once a week to draw rations. The doctor at the post had advised this move as the Indians were having chills and fever at their camp near the post. As I was very busy I concluded to take one Indian and go and see Crook, knowing that I could induce the Indians to do anything that I thought was for their good. The next day I took an Indian that I knew well, and with two white men drove to Prescott. It took five days the way the road ran at that time


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to make the trip—two to go and two to come, and one day in town. I went to see Crook and took my friend, Herbert Bowers, who was post trader at the time, to introduce me, and my Indian, Tom. I found Crook much different from other commanding officers that I had met in Arizona. He was more like a pioneer miner or prospector to meet—just a common plain gentleman. He told me that Mr. Bowers had told him of my efforts to get the other commanders to employ the Yavapais as scouts and trailers, and asked me if the Indians would like to do it. I assured him that he could enlist every Yavapai that was able to go. He then asked me how long it would take to get the Indians together so that he could have a talk with them at Date Greek. I told him that a week would give them plenty of time. That was a good talk for me, for I had been trying for several years to do just what Crook had proposed, but there never was a man in command before that who had sense enough to do it. When I told Tom what Crook wanted, he was highly elated.

“On my return to my ranch I killed an Indian in Kirkland Valley by Tom's advice, and when Tom knew he was dead he said General Crook had commenced to kill Tontos, which was true, for if Crook had not sent for me when he did, I should not have found the Indian at the station in Kirkland Valley.

“It was more than a month before I heard from Crook again. Then he wrote me asking me if I could get the Indians in to Date Creek by a certain day. I wrote and told him that I


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could get all of the ablebodied men in by the appointed time. This correspondence was done by couriers.

“I had a young Indian captain named Waw ba Yuma, working for me, and most of the twenty-five working Indians that I had were of his band. I told him that General Crook wanted all the strong young men of his tribe to go with the soldiers and fight the Tontos. The Indian said to me: ‘You tell General Crook that, when I am done work here I will go and so will all of my young men.’ I said to him, ‘You had better go and see the General and tell him yourself.’ ‘You can talk for me and for my people,’ said Waw ba Yuma. I sent out Indian runners and had all of the young men of the tribe at Date Creek on the appointed day. I met General Crook there and we called the meeting in front of the officers' quarters on the south side of the parade ground. I was a little surprised to meet Irataba, the head chief of the Mohaves there, but thought nothing of it at the time. The white men were seated with backs against the buildings, Irataba just in front of us and the Yavapais sitting on the benches and standing before us. Crook had brought a man named Charles Spencer from Mohave County to interpret for him. Spencer had done a little talking for Crook when Irataba got up and began to pass pieces of tobacco to some of the Indians, and in a few seconds had passed out eight or ten pieces, when some soldiers who had been standing among the Indians began to grab the ones to whom the tobacco had been given, at the same time drawing their revolvers. The Indians, being


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surprised and scared, struggled desperately and several of the arrested ones escaped; the soldiers began shooting, and those that had no revolvers ran to their quarters and got their rifles and began shooting at every Indian that they could see. Crook, myself and Col. Jas. M. Barney were the only ones present who did not take an active part in some way in the fracas. We just stood by and looked on. The Indians had left their guns at their camp with the women and children and some of the soldiers ran to the camp which was about one half mile from the post, and secured all the guns and bows.

“When I realized what had been done I went and got my arms and hunted up Crook and asked him what he meant by inducing me to get the Indians into the post under pretense of friendship and then killing a lot of them—eight I believe were found. He said that Irataba had told the agent at the Colorado Reservation that the Yavapais had murdered the Loring party, a short time before, while en route by stage from Wickenburg to Ehrenberg, and that the pieces of tobacco were handed to the ones that Irataba had learned were of the party who attacked the stage and killed seven people. I told Crook that it was a lie; that I knew it was Mexicans who had done the killing and robbing of the stage. I was getting madder every minute and told Crook that if anything happened to my family through this treachery that I should hold him personally responsible; that I was living in the midst of the Indians and that I could expect nothing bug that they would blame me for all the trouble. He said in reply to my talk that he


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would see that I had protection. I mounted my horse and rode as fast as I could to the camp on the road. I told the Indians what had happened and told them that I could not keep them at work any longer and that they must go into the mountains and stay until I made a signal smoke at a certain high place on my ranch. Waw ba Yuma did not like the idea of going but I made him understand that all the people would be afraid and that I should have to stop work anyhow until I had a chance to see and talk to all the Yavapais.

“It was nearly a month later when Lieut. Trout, the quartermaster at Camp Date Creek, Frank Murray, the butcher at the post, and a soldier came to my ranch about noon. Trout asked me if I had seen any Indians since they left my camp, which I had not, nor had there been one seen at or near the post. He said he wanted to get them back, if possible. I went out to the place agreed upon and raised a big black smoke. In a very short time my friend Tom, his squaw, and, one more Indian came to the ranch. I told Tom what Trout said and told him that Trout would issue rations to all who went for them. I had a lot of talking to do and told the Indians that they could come and camp near my house if they wanted to. Tom asked me what all the soldiers were doing there, Crook having sent a company of cavalry to my ranch as soon as he could get them there after the affair at Date Creek. I explained the matter as well as I could, and after Trout and his party had left I had a lot of talk and explained the matter, placing all of the blame on Irataba,


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and he was the one to blame for the whole trouble. Irataba was jealous because the Yavapais were getting better treatment from the officers at Date Creek than his people were receiving from the Indian Department, hence the jealousy.

“I had to do a lot of talking to get the Indians to go back to Date Creek to meet Crook the second time, he having promised to return their guns and other things that the soldiers had taken from their camp. Finally I told them that if they would come and meet Crook that I would be there and see that they got their guns and that I would be right beside Crook, and if the soldiers tried to bother them that I would have my pistol in my belt and would shoot Crook three times. A few, those who had lost their guns, went in to the post on the appointed day. I was there and told Crook that we would do our business with the Indians in front of the sutler's store instead of going onto the parade ground as on the other occasion. There were no seats provided but Crook had ordered all the stolen property to be brought out and placed on the ground near where we stood. I told the Indian, Tom, to get his gun. When he picked it up and examined it, I asked him if it was all right. His reply was ‘Kely-eppy,’ meaning ‘no good.’ I told another one to go get his gun, and that was ‘kely-eppy’ also. I showed Crook that there had been screws taken out of the locks. He at once ordered the commander of the post to bring out some guns that were there and twenty rounds of ammunition for each gun. They were turned over to those who had lost


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their guns without any ceremony. When the old guns that the soldiers had taken were examined, it was found that there was not one but what had been ruined for the use of the Indians. If a screw was taken out the Indian had no possible means of replacing it. Twenty rounds of ammunition was a great prize. The only way that an Indian could get ammunition was to go to La Pas or Yuma and get some white man to buy it for him. That act restored confidence in General Crook. He enlisted a lot of these Indians, agreeing to take care of all who were left in camp, i. e., the women, children and old men. The first thing he did with the new soldiers was to go out and thrash the Hualapais; then enlisted some Hualapais to help clean up the Indians of the country east of Prescott.”

’’

Again quoting from J. M. Barney:

‘‘

“From Camp Date Creek General Crook returned to Fort Whipple and had been there but a short time when a dispatch from Dr. Williams was received by him, in which he was informed that Jemaspie, chief of the Apache-Yumas, with about a hundred of his people, had returned to the reservation and expressed a desire for peace.

“General Crook immediately returned to Date Creek and found upon arriving there that the Indians were not then prepared to talk, owing to the fact that the wife of one of the principal chiefs was sick. On the morning of the third day after his arrival, however, a council was held at which these Indians agreed to practically all the conditions imposed by the General—to stay upon the reserve; to report the fact to their


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agent whenever any bad Indian came among them; to help the white citizens chastise hostile Indians whenever called upon to do so; and, lastly, to aid the authorities in bringing to justice those Indians who had murdered the stage passengers.

“This being all the General desired the Apache-Yumas to do, he promised, on the part of the Government, to do everything necessary for their welfare as long as they lived up to this agreement.

ldquo;Having also heard that they intended to take the life of the friendly Mohave chief, Irataba, for having betrayed the Apache-Mohaves, he warned them not to do so, explaining at the same time that Irataba was not the first person who had given information about the murderers.

“General Crook then returned to Fort Whipple and commenced immediate preparations for extensive operations against the Apache-Mohaves and other hostile tribes, which were later carried out with encouraging success.”

’’

Captain John G. Bourke, in “On the Border with Crook,” gives the following account of the attempt upon General Crook's life, which is substantially the same as the foregoing:

‘‘

“Sixty-two miles from Prescott to the southwest lay the sickly and dismal post of Camp Date Creek, on the creek of the same name. Here were congregated about one thousand of the band known as the Apache-Yumas, with a sprinkling of Apache-Mohaves, tribes allied to the Mohaves on the Colorado, and to the Hualapais, but differing from them in disposition, as


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the Date Creek people were not all anxious for peace, but would now and then send small parties of their young men to raid and steal from the puny settlements like Wickenburg. The culmination of the series was the ‘Loring’ or ‘Wickenburg’ massacre, so called from the talented young scientist, Loring, a member of the Wheeler surveying expendition, who, with his companions—a stage-load—was brutally murdered not far from Wickenburg; of the party only two escaped, one a woman named Sheppard, and the other man named Kruger, both badly wounded.

“General Crook was soon satisfied that this terrible outrage had been committed by a portion of the irreconcilable element at the Date Creek Agency, but how to single them out as individuals and inflict the punishment their crime deserved, without entailing disaster upon well meaning men, women and babies who had not been implicated, was for a long while a most serious problem. There were many of the tribe satisfied to cultivate peaceful relations with the whites, but none so favorably disposed as to impart the smallest particle of information in regard to the murder, as it was no part of their purpose to surrender any of their relatives for punishment.

“It would take too much time to narrate in detail the ‘patient search and vigil long’ attending the ferreting out of the individuals concerned in the Loring massacre; it was a matter of days and weeks and months, but Crook knew that he had the right clew, and, although many times baffled, he returned to the scent with renewed


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energy and determination. The culprits, who included in their ranks, or at least among their sympathizers, some very influential men of the tribe, had also begun, on their side, to suspect that all was not right; one of them, I understand, escaped to Southern California, and there found work in some of the Mexican settlements, which he could do readily as he spoke Spanish fluently and once having donned the raiment of civilization, there would be nothing whatever to distinguish him from the average of people about him.

“Word reached General Crook, through the Hualapais, that when next he visited Camp Date Creek, he was to be murdered with all those who might accompany him. He was warned to be on the lookout, and told that the plan of the conspirators was this: They would appear in front of the house in which he should take up his headquarters, and say that they had come for a talk upon some tribal matter of importance; when the General made his appearance, the Indians were to sit down in a semi-circle in front of the door, each with his carbine hidden under his blanket, or carelessly exposed on his lap. The conversation was to be decidedly harmonious, and there was to be nothing said that was not perfectly agreeable to the whites. After the ‘talk’ had progressed a few minutes, the leading conspirator would remark that they would all be the better for a little smoke, and as soon as the tobacco was handed out to them the chief conspirator was to take some and begin rolling a cigarette. (The Indians of the southwest do not ordinarily use the pipe.) When the first


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puff was taken from the cigarette, the man next to the chief was to level his weapon suddenly and kill General Crook, the others at the very same moment taking the lives of the whites closest to them. The whole tribe would then be made to break away from the reserve and take to the inaccessible cliffs and canyons at the head of the Santa Maria fork of the Bill Williams. The plan would have succeeded perfectly, had it not been for the warning received, and also for the fact that the expected visit had to be made much sooner than was anticipated, and thus prevented all the gang from getting together.”

’’

Digressing at this point, Captain Bourke gives the following account of the death and burial of Captain Philip Dwyer, 5th U. S. Cavalry, which is pathetic in the extreme, and goes to show the sufferings of our soldiers in these frontier posts; the officers and men dying, oftentimes without the aid of physician or priest, much less the tender ministrations of women.

‘‘

“Captain Philip Dwyer, Fifth Cavalry, the officer in command of the camp, suddenly died, and this took me down posthaste to assume command. Dwyer was a very brave, handsome, and intelligent soldier, much beloved by all his comrades. He was the only officer left at Date Creek—all the others and most of the garrison were absent on detached service of one kind and another—and there was no one to look after the dead man but Mr. Wilbur Hugus, the post trader, and myself. The surroundings were most dismal and squalid; all the furniture in the room in which the corpse lay was two or


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three plain wooden chairs, the bed * * * * and a pine table upon which stood a candlestick with the candle melted and burned in the socket. Dwyer had been ‘ailing’ for several days, but no one could tell exactly what was the matter with him; and, of course, no one suspected that one so strong and athletic could be in danger of death.

“One of the enlisted men of his company, a bright young trumpeter, was sitting up with him, and about the hour of midnight Dwyer became a trifle uneasy and asked: ‘Can you sing that new song, “Put me under the Daisies”?’

“‘Oh yes, Captain,’ replied the trumpeter; ‘I have often sung it, and will gladly sing it now.’

“So he began to sing, very sweetly, the ditty, which seemed to calm the nervousness of his superior officer. But the candle had burned down in the socket, and when the young soldier went to replace it, he could find neither candle nor match, and he saw in the flickering light and shadow that the face of the Captain was strangely set, and of a ghastly purplish hue. The trumpeter ran swiftly to the nearest house to get another light, and to call for help, but upon returning found the Captain dead.

“Many strange sights have I seen, but none that produced a stranger or more pathetic appeal to my emotions than the funeral of Phil Dwyer; we got together just as good an apology for a coffin as the timberless country would furnish, and then wrapped our dead friend in his regimentals, and all hands were then ready to start for the cemetery.


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“At the head marched Mr. Hugus, Doctor Williams, (the Indian Agent), myself, and Lieutenant Hay, of the Twenty-third Infantry, who arrived at the post early in the morning; then came the troop of cavalry, dismounted, and all the civilians living in and around the camp; and lastly every Indian—man, woman and child—able to walk or toddle, for all of them, young and old, good and bad, loved Phil Dwyer. The soldiers and civilians formed in one line at the head of the grave, and the Apache-Yumas in two long lines at right angles to them, and on each side. The few short, expressive and tender sentences of the burial service were read, then the bugles sang taps, and three volleys were fired across the hills, the clods rattled down on the breast of the dead, and the ceremony was over.”

’’

Continuing his description of the attempt to murder General Crook, Captain Bourke says:

‘‘

“As soon as General Crook learned of the death of Dwyer, he hurried to Date Creek, now left without any officer of its proper garrison, and informed the Indians that he intended having a talk with them on the morrow, at the place designated by himself. The conspirators thought that their scheme could be carried out without trouble, especially since they saw no signs of suspicion on the part of the whites. General Crook came to the place appointed, without any escort of troops, but carelessly strolling forward were a dozen or more of the packers, who had been engaged in all kinds of melees since the days of early California mining. Each of these was armed to the teeth, and every revolver was on full cock, and every knife ready


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for instant use. The talk was very agreeable, and not an unpleasant word had been uttered on either side, when all of a sudden the Indian in the centre asked for a little tobacco, and, when it was handed to him, began rolling a cigarette; before the first puff of smoke had rolled away from his lips, one of the warriors alongside of him levelled his carbine full at General Crook, and fired. Lieutenant Ross, aide-de-camp to the General, was waiting for the movement, and struck the arm of the murderer so that the bullet was deflected upwards, and the life of the General was saved. The scrimmage became a perfect Kilkenny fight in another second or two, and every man made for the man nearest to him, the Indian who had given the signal being grasped in the viselike grip of Hank Hewitt, with whom he struggled vainly, Hewitt was a man of great power, and able to master most men other than professional athletes or prize-fighters; the Indian was not going to submit so long as life lasted, and struggled, bit, and kicked to free himself, but all in vain, as Hank had caught him from the back of the head, and the red man was at a total disadvantage. Hewitt started to drag his captive to the guardhouse, but changed his mind, and seizing the Apache-Mohave by both ears, pulled his head down violently against the rocks, and either broke his skull or brought on concussion of the brain, as the Indian died that night in the guardhouse.

“Others of the party were killed and wounded, and still others, with the ferocity of tigers, fought their way out through our feeble lines, and made their way to the point of rendezvous at the head of the Santa Maria.”

’’

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